For the Love of Hufflepuff: Books Two and Three
by Darkfaery64
Summary: Book 2: A former Hufflepuff with a dark secret becomes the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. Book 3: Voldemort begins a new reign of terror while Veronica continues to ruin Snape's life for the better.
1. Veronica

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"For the Love of Hufflepuff: Book Two 

The Badger and the Serpent"

by Christina Teresa

*

Author's note: This story takes place during Harry Potter's fifth year at Hogwarts. Rated PG-13 for violence and language. Though this is the second part in my "Hufflepuff Trilogy" it is not necessary to read "For the Love of Hufflepuff: Book One - Death Eaters, Inc." to enjoy it. In "Book One", young Severus Snape is recruited into the Death Eaters by his old Slytherin Head of House, Professor Balin, but is soon disenchanted with Voldemort's world of violence and death. He receives help out from an unexpected source.  


"For the Love of Hufflepuff" is just for fun and is not intended to infringe upon any copyright owned by J. K. Rowling, Scholastic Press or Warner Brothers Pictures. Original story and characters © Christina Teresa, 2001. Thanks to Yolanda and Zsenya, my Sugar Quill beta-readers, for their help and encouragement.

***

Chapter One: Veronica

Professor Severus Snape glanced over at the staff table's only empty chair. The new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor was late; some academic on sabbatical from the Madragora Institute for Magical Research. The Ministry's Committee on Experimental Charms thought highly of the independent think tank's research-- often seeking the Institute's advice on policy, but Snape was of the opinion that it was staffed with wizards and witches who couldn't hack it in the real wizarding world.

To make matters worse, the new professor was a woman. _What was Dumbledore thinking?_ Snape didn't have anything against witches, per se. Certainly, Professors McGonagall and Sprout were very competent in their respective fields, but Transfiguration and Herbology were not the Dark Arts. Women were too sentimental and often showed the sort of weaknesses that could be exploited by dark forces. Unless it turned out this Professor Stanley was a former Slytherin, then there might be hope for her. 

*

Professor Veronica Stanley made her way quickly through Hogwarts' Great Hall to the staff table. She was a petite woman in her mid-thirties, with a pleasant face framed by unruly curly brown hair. The hem of her bright yellow robes was covered in mud, her pointed hat was slightly askew and the dilapidated broom she carried had been broken in half. 

Professor Sprout, a plump little witch who was Head of Hufflepuff House, bolted from her chair and wrapped her arm around the younger woman. "Veronica, my dear, are you all right?"

"Rough landing," Professor Stanley laughed, "but I'll survive." She regarded her broken broom with disgust. "That's the last time I buy the economy model. I didn't miss the Sorting I hope?" she asked as she settled next to Sprout.

Sprout gave Veronica's hand an affectionate squeeze. "You're just in time."

Snape turned and glared at Dumbledore. "She's from Hufflepuff?!" 

"Didn't I mention that?" The Headmaster took a sudden interest in the Great Hall's magical ceiling. "I could have sworn I mentioned that."

*

The next morning in the staff room, Sprout was giving Stanley a first-day-of-school pep talk over a cup of tea when Snape walked in. He sat next to the two women and sneered at Veronica. She couldn't help but notice the palpable wave of intimidation he emanated. She only vaguely remembered Snape from her time as a student at Hogwarts, but doubted he recalled her at all. Not surprising as she had only been in her second year when he was in his seventh. Besides, Hufflepuffs and Slytherins didn't tend to travel in the same circles. Sometimes, it was hard to believe they were from the same planet. 

"So, _Professor_," he began with a hint of sarcasm in his voice, "I hear this is your first time teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts."

Veronica nodded, a wide-eyed expression of innocence on her face. "Yes, formally. I have done a great deal of study on the theoretical aspects of the Dark Arts and have some theories of my own, but to be honest, I'm a bit nervous."

"As well you should be," he replied smugly. "You will find theory a poor substitute for practical experience."

She leaned toward him, her chin on her hand. "I imagine your knowledge of the subject is exhaustive. Headmaster Dumbledore told me how badly you've wanted this post, but as you are one of the foremost Potion Masters in the world, he has been hard pressed to find a replacement for you."

One corner of his mouth curled up. "Dumbledore said that?"

"Oh, yes," she said seriously. "From what he's told me of your Potions expertise, I feel almost cheated to have left Hogwarts prior to you joining its teaching staff."

He looked a bit stunned, not to mention, confused. "Thank you."

Professor Sprout turned her head and cleared her throat in an attempt not to burst out laughing. 

Veronica closed the distance between them and put a friendly hand on his arm. Snape attempted to snatch it away, but she tightened her grip. "I hate to impose, Professor Snape, but if it wouldn't be too much trouble, I would be so grateful if I could consult you from time to time. I have no doubt I would benefit tremendously from your superior knowledge of the subject."

"Uh, yes, of course," he said, finally extricating himself from her grasp. "If you ladies will excuse me, I'm due in the dungeon." Snape rose slowly, keeping a suspicious eye on Stanley, and backed out of the room.

As soon as he was gone, Stanley gave Sprout a wink and a smile. The older witch covered her mouth as she started to giggle. 

"Do you think I overdid it?" Veronica asked.

"I imagine he thinks you're a bit mad."

"Good. Perhaps he'll leave me alone."

Sprout shook her head. "I doubt that will be the last you hear from that arrogant, insufferable blowhard." 

Veronica regarded her with surprise. Professor Sprout was one of the kindest people she had ever known. It was rare for her to speak ill of anyone.

"He and his horrid group of Slytherins. I haven't seen a bunch this rotten since," she lowered her voice, "You-Know-Who rose to power the first time." 

That comment sent a chill down Veronica's spine. _Snape couldn't be that bad. No one could be that bad_. She glanced at her watch with a sigh. "Well, I guess I'll see for myself in about five minutes. The fifth-year Slytherins are my first class of the day. Wish me luck."

*

Draco Malfoy was holding court while the Slytherins awaited the arrival of their new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. His thugs, Crabbe and Goyle, and pug-faced Pansy Parkinson were particularly attentive. 

"What could a Hufflepuff possibly know about the Dark Arts? They're only good for target practice." Malfoy then stiffened up and pretended to fall over in what had become (in Slytherin circles, at least) his well-known imitation of Cedric Diggory.

All of his classmates laughed, some more comfortably than others. Draco turned around when he heard a particularly loud chuckle come from the doorway. It was Professor Stanley.

"That was very funny, young man," she said as she entered the classroom, still laughing as she approached him. "You are?"

"Draco Malfoy." Her bright yellow robes made her look like a giant canary and she was grinning like an idiot. _Is she mental?_

"Well, Mr. Malfoy, I hope you and your friends enjoyed your little joke thoroughly because it will cost you detention."

He opened his mouth to protest, but she held up her hand to stop him. 

"After school today, you will help Professor Sprout declaw her new crop of Woundwort. I suggest you wear very thick gloves, they pinch." She walked to her desk and pulled out a copy of _The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection, Volume Two_ from a weathered brocade bag. Then she regarded the class with a look of affectionate disappointment. "I do so hate to get off on the wrong foot, don't you? Let's put all this unpleasantness behind us and turn to Chapter Three, _So, You've Been Bitten By A Vampire_..."

Crabbe leaned over and whispered to Malfoy, whose usually pale face was red with anger, "Detention in the first minute of the first class of the year. That's a new record."

Draco kicked him in the shin. "Shut up, you idiot!"

*

After lunch, Neville Longbottom filed into the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom along with his fellow Gryffindors for their first lesson. Professor Stanley was sitting on the edge of her desk, smiling cheerfully as the students settled into their seats. She had already achieved a certain level of popularity among the Gryffindors when word spread of Draco Malfoy's detention, but several of Neville's classmates were skeptical. They doubted a female Hufflepuff was capable of teaching them what they needed to know in an increasingly dangerous world. All Neville knew was that he much preferred her kind and open face to the scarred visage of her predecessor, "Mad-Eye" Moody. She took the roll then asked each student to introduce themselves so she could commit their names to memory.

"There are many dangerous creatures in the world," she began, "vampires, werewolves, dementors; but by far the most dangerous are other human beings. Unfortunately, some of the most deadly are beginning to crawl out from under the rocks they've been hiding under for the last fourteen years. I'm am talking, of course, about Lord Voldemort and his merry band of Death Eaters." 

The entire class, except for Harry Potter, cringed at the sound of the Dark Lord's name.

Professor Stanley sighed and shook her head. "You know, that business about making Voldemort more powerful when you speak his name is a myth. In fact, there's an ancient magical belief that says to know a person's name is to have power over them. All this 'You-Know-Who' and 'He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named' rubbish gives him the sort of fearful respect he craves but does not deserve. So in this class we will call him Voldemort or," she paused and grinned mischievously, "'That Snake-Faced Git', if you prefer."

Harry Potter laughed out loud. Everyone else gaped at her like she was crazy.

"Humor is also an excellent way to bring someone like Voldemort down a peg," Professor Stanley said, "though it helps if more than one person laughs."

Harry was still chuckling. "'Snake-Faced Git'. Do you mind if I use that sometime?"

Stanley beamed. "Be my guest."

A visibly upset Lavender Brown raised her hand. "The _Daily Prophet_ hasn't said anything about You-Know—that person you just mentioned rising again. My mum and dad said Dumbledore just overreacted after what happened last year. If it was really happening again we'd hear about it. The Ministry would warn us, wouldn't they?"

Professor Stanley snorted. "The Ministry's job is to keep the peace. They'll tell you only what they think you need to know. Thank your stars Headmaster Dumbledore thinks differently. It's not my intention to frighten you," she said more gently, "but it is happening again and burying your head in the sand isn't going to make it go away. Speaking of sand, the first thing I'm going to teach you is a combination Sand Spell and Banishing Charm. You turn a bit of the floor into sand and fling it into the face of your opponent. It's much simpler than a Stunning Spell, but quite effective." 

Neville heard some of his classmates murmur their disappointment.

Stanley must have heard, but chose to ignore it. "Any other questions before we get started?"

Ron Weasley raised his hand slowly. "Last year, we learned about the three Unforgivable Curses..."

Neville's hands gripped the edge of his desk unconsciously. Every time he heard those ghastly curses mentioned he thought of his parents, both victims of the Cruciatus Curse, lying mindless in St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.

"I know it's illegal to use the Unforgivables on other human beings," Ron continued, "but don't you think those rules should be changed under the circumstances? I mean, we should know what they know."

Harry Potter and Hermione Granger said "Ron!" in unison.

"How are we supposed to fight them if we don't know what they know?" Ron replied defensively. "Harry, you of all people--"

"That is a excellent question, Mr. Weasley," Stanley interrupted. "One that I do not have a satisfactory answer to. It's tempting, but I must tell you that this knowledge is very dangerous and not just for the obvious reasons. It changes a person. Fortunately for me, it's a moot point since I'm not allowed to teach them to you anyway."

Dean Thomas whispered to Seamus Finnigan, "She probably wouldn't even know how."

She turned to Dean, but didn't seem angry. "I imagine I must seem like a bit of a let down from last year. It's all right, I'm not offended. Alastor Moody is a rather hard act to follow. But as I am charged with teaching you how to stay alive and in one piece, you all have a right to be sure that I know what I'm doing. I think a demonstration is in order."

Neville groaned inwardly, but heard Dean, Seamus and a few other boys say, "Cool!"

She looked around the classroom for a moment then marched to the back of the room and bent down by a small hole in the wall. Using her wand, she gently removed a little mouse from its home. She stroked it and cooed, quieting the frightened animal as she made her way back to her desk.

Neville started to murmur, "Please don't torture it. Please don't torture it..."

"Not to worry, Mr. Longbottom. I think the Killing Curse will be sufficient. It is the most difficult of the three to master." She continued to pet the animal affectionately. "He's a sweet little fellow, isn't he? Would you like to hold him before he goes?" She tried to hand the mouse to Dean, but he looked down at his feet uncomfortably. 

"Professor Moody used spiders," Dean told her. "Why don't you kill a spider instead?"

"No spiders!" Ron protested.

"I'm afraid all I have is this little fellow, so he'll have to do." She placed the mouse on her desk. The animal, unaware of its impending doom, nudged Professor Stanley's hand. The tension mounted as she scanned the room. "Ready everyone?"

Several students, including Neville, shook their heads. Dean Thomas was looking especially uncomfortable.

She took a few steps back to give the class a full view of what was about to happen. Neville's eyes traveled from the little mouse to Professor Stanley pulling out her wand and back again. Then she said those terrible words...

"_Avada Kedavra_!"

With a flash of blinding green light, a palpable stream of energy rushed though the air towards the unsuspecting creature, followed by a small explosion. When the dust cleared, the mouse was startled, but still quite alive. There was a rather large hole in the wall.

Professor Stanley grinned and shrugged. "Missed."

Neville joined his classmates in a collective sigh of relief. 

She picked up the mouse and handed it to Dean. "Mr. Thomas, please return our little friend to his home." He did so gladly.

"Despite my knowledge of the Unforgivable Curses, I am definitely from the Stun-and-Run school of Dark Arts defense. Disable your opponent long enough to get to safety. Leave the heroics to the professionals. These sadistic bullies that call themselves Death Eaters are very motivated to hurt, maim or kill you and they have more tricks up their sleeves then you can shake a wand at." She reached behind her desk, pulled out a large sack and put it on the top of her desk. "Now, if you would push your chairs to the side and then take a pair of protective goggles, we can get started."

When Neville went up to get his goggles, he approached the professor. "Thanks for not hurting it. I know it's just a mouse, but—"

"You're very welcome, Mr. Longbottom," she said with a kind smile. "You'll find that you can defend yourself well and still remain true to who you are." 

*

That afternoon after classes, Professor Snape made his way to Professor Stanley's office to complain of her harsh treatment of Draco Malfoy. Her door was open, so he entered without knocking. She was in the process of unpacking a trunk full of books and her back was to him. 

"Professor Stanley, I'd like to speak to you if you have a moment." Snape was disappointed when his stealthy entrance didn't startle her. 

She smiled and invited him to sit down, but he declined. "I was just about to make some tea. I'd be happy to make you a cup."

"No, thank you." While she made her tea, Snape looked around her office. The walls were mostly uncovered, but she had several photographs on the mantle and a large one on her desk of what must be her entire family-- all smiling, hugging and waving. _Sentimental drivel_. Her broken broom was propped up in one corner with an equally battered broomstick servicing kit sitting next to it. She had an impressive collection of magical texts, no doubt for show. On one of the shelves was an empty stone basin decorated with ancient runes. It was a Pensieve. _An empty Pensieve?_ Apparently, the woman didn't have even one thought left over to put inside it. There was also a hint of burnt sage in the air. She had been purifying the room. 

"What was it you wanted to talk to me about?" she asked pleasantly as she sipped her tea.

"Mr. Malfoy's unwarranted detention," Snape replied in his most condescending, patrician tone. "It is your first day as a faculty member so you may not be aware of Hogwarts' policy of progressive discipline. It is customary for teachers to deduct points from the student's respective House for the first transgression then assign detention only if the behavior persists."

"I am aware of the policy, but I felt that the offense was serious enough to warrant detention. After all, it was a rather callous remark."

"Yes, but--"

"Surely, Professor Snape, you don't think it's appropriate for a student to make jokes about the murder of one of their classmates, do you?"

"Of course not." For the second time today, this little woman managed to derail him. He wasn't out of ammunition yet. "There's also the matter of your first lecture. Why is it the Slytherins received a lecture on vampire bites while your other classes received a practical defense lesson?"

"Oh, but knowing how to properly treat vampire bites is very practical." She put down her teacup and pulled her long, curly brown hair back from the left side of her neck. Snape could just make out two small puncture scars. "Got that doing field work in Romania." She sighed wistfully. "And he seemed like such a nice young man, too." She then resumed unpacking her books. She reached in her trunk and pulled out a particularly ancient volume and placed it on the shelf. "Don't worry, Professor, I'll be teaching your students the Sand Spell next week."

A vaguely frustrated Snape was about to leave when shocked recognition stopped him dead. The book Professor Stanley had just put on the shelf was the _Infusco Diabolus_. Snape went to the shelf and took it down. Just touching it brought back horrific memories of his Burning Ritual.

"It took me ten years to find a copy," Stanley told him, "and it cost me a month's wages when I finally did track it down. Antiquarian books, that's where the money is if you ask me. It took me another two years to actually decipher it. It's written in code, you know."

"Yes, I know," he said quietly. "Why do _you_ have a copy?"

"As Mr. Weasley so eloquently put it in class today, how are we supposed to fight them if we don't know what they know?"

"There used to be a copy in Hogwarts' library, but it disappeared years ago."

"As you can see, this copy doesn't have Hogwarts' seal." She took the book back from him and replaced it on the shelf. "Professor Snape," she said in a slightly strained tone of voice, "I still have a great deal of settling in to do, so if you'll excuse me." She then politely but firmly ushered him out of her office and closed the door behind him. 

*

All through September and October, Professor Snape came to Professor Stanley's office at least once a week to complain about her teaching methods. Veronica would have been annoyed if it weren't for the fact that she was able to handle him so easily. She just killed him with kindness. Their conferences usually went something like this:

"The tried and true defense of the Defatigatum Curse is the Adversus Charm," said Professor Snape, his prominent nose in the air. "Any _amateur_ knows that."

"Of course, you are absolutely correct, Professor," Veronica answered.

Snape gave her a self-satisfied smirk.

"But," Stanley continued, "I've discovered that if one uses the Potensus Charm instead, it requires much less effort with virtually the same results, thereby allowing one to put that much more energy into a counterattack. More tea?"

His smirk evaporated. "No, thank you," he replied through clenched teeth.

She smiled brightly as she poured him another cup anyway. "I do so enjoy our little chats, don't you?"

He glowered at her and stormed from her office.

"Leaving so soon?" she called after him.

Less amusing was Draco Malfoy's conduct in her class. Veronica was forced to assign him detention twice for throwing curses while his classmates' backs were turned. Messrs. Crabbe and Goyle insisted they didn't object, which made the behavior all the more disturbing. Professor Snape invariably defended the boy, thereby perpetuating it. She never did and probably never would understand the Slytherin mind.

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***


	2. The Revenge of Neville Longbottom

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Chapter Two: The Revenge of Neville Longbottom

It was the first Monday of November. Neville Longbottom hated Mondays because that was the day the Fat Lady changed the password to Gryffindor Tower. He was lost in thought trying to remember whether it was "poppycock" or "jigglypiggly" when he barreled into someone. Not just someone-- Professor Snape. _Why me?_ As Neville's books and parchments flew in every direction, he steeled himself for the inevitable.

"Mr. Longbottom," Snape began disdainfully, "can't a person walk down a corridor without being assaulted by someone too stupid to watch where they are going?"

Neville lowered his head, wishing the castle's stone floor would open up and swallow him whole. "I-I'm sorry."

"You are without a doubt the clumsiest, most inept creature it has been my displeasure to be associated with. How you ever got into this school is an utter mystery to me. I remember a time when Hogwarts admitted only the cream of wizarding society, now they'll let anyone in. I'm deducting ten points from Gryffindor for your negligence. Perhaps that will teach you to be more careful in the future." 

As soon as Snape marched away, Neville knelt down and gathered his belongings, tears stinging his eyes. He felt someone watching him and looked up with a start. To his relief, it was only Professor Stanley. She held out her hand and helped him to his feet.

"Are you all right?" she asked as she handed him a handkerchief.

He shrugged, embarrassed. "You'd think after five years I'd be used to it."

Professor Stanley's warm brown eyes flashed with anger. "You mean to tell me this happens on a regular basis?"

Neville nodded despairingly. "Usually just in Potions class. Please don't say anything, it'll just make it worse."

"But Neville, I can help you."

Memories of Professor Lupin and the consequences of the Boggart Snape dressed like Neville's grandmother came rushing back. Like Lupin, he was certain Professor Stanley meant well, but whatever she had in mind was bound to make his life miserable. "Promise me you won't interfere." 

Reluctantly, Stanley nodded. "I promise."

*

Veronica's anger did not diminish one bit as she sat at the staff table at dinner moving her food around her plate with her fork. Once or twice she had to suppress the desire to stick her fork-- or some other sharp object-- into Professor Snape's flesh. Of course, that might make her feel a little better, but it certainly wouldn't help Neville.

Snape ceased to be the mildly amusing thorn in her side he'd been during her first two months teaching at Hogwarts. She realized she was only now seeing him for what he really was-- a cruel bully. And bullies were one thing Veronica refused to tolerate. Unwelcome memories invaded her thoughts of another Slytherin Head of House, Professor Balin. _I wonder what else Snape is doing when others aren't looking_?

"Is there something bothering you, my dear?" Professor Sprout asked.

"I'm fine," Veronica lied. "What makes you think there's something wrong?"

"Well, you haven't eaten a thing and you just violently impaled an innocent potato."

Veronica looked down at her plate and saw that she had indeed plunged her fork as far as it would go into the poor, unsuspecting vegetable. She wanted to tell Sprout about Neville's problem, but was bound by her promise to the boy not to. "It's nothing, really." 

She tried to put it out of her mind, but with no success. Then she had an idea that would protect Neville and possibly solve the whole problem. As Headmaster Dumbledore left the Great Hall after dinner, she asked to speak to him privately. 

"Of course, Veronica," he said as he took her arm and led her to his office. "I've been meaning to have a word with you, as well."

Veronica had only been in Dumbledore's office once before, when she interviewed for the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. She never had occasion to come here as a student. The beautiful Phoenix, Fawkes watched her with interest from his perch. However, the portraits of previous headmasters and headmistresses were too busy dozing to pay her any mind. As Dumbledore made her a cup of tea, she caught a glimpse of a Pensieve sitting on a shelf in a locked glass case. Unlike the one she'd been carrying around with her for the past two years, this one was full of silvery-liquid memories. With some effort, she pushed that bit of unfinished business to the back of her mind. Thankfully, she had other things to worry about at the moment.

Dumbledore handed her a cup of tea and settled in an overstuffed chair across from her. 

"Headmaster," she began, "I have a hypothetical situation I'd like to run by you, if you don't mind. Sort of a moral dilemma."

"Veronica, I insist you call me Albus."

She still felt a bit like a young girl around this man who had always been larger than life, but smiled and nodded. "Thank you, Albus." 

"Before we get to your problem, I must tell you that I am most pleased with your work. The students like you-- well, most of them anyway." Dumbledore grinned wryly. It was unnecessary to mention where the complaints were coming from. "And you're teaching them practical defense methods without encouraging recklessness. I know you only agreed to stay for two terms, but you have a position here for as long as you want it."

"Thank you, sir-- Albus. I must admit compliments like that will make it harder for me to leave when the year's out." Nothing could be farther from the truth. She was only here as a favor to Professor Sprout to help boost Hufflepuff morale after last year's tragedy. Besides, the Diggorys were friends of the family. It was only right for her to do something to prevent any more students from getting hurt. She couldn't wait to get back to the safety of the Institute. Hogwarts hadn't been a safe place for her since she was fifteen. 

"Well, perhaps if Professor Sprout and I work on you a little you'll agree to stay," he said with a twinkle in his eye. "It would be so nice not to have to search for another replacement when the position is already aptly filled. Now, what was it that you wanted to ask me about?"

She chose her words carefully. "First, what do you think of bullies?" 

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "In general, or did you have someone specific in mind?"

Veronica was tempted to mention Snape by name, but was determined to remain true to her promise. "In general."

"Well, I don't like them-- generally speaking."

"I was hoping you'd say that." She put down her teacup and leaned toward him. "Now, for my hypothetical situation. Say there is a bully who is victimizing a particularly vulnerable individual, someone ill-equipped to defend himself."

"A distressing situation indeed," he said.

"Very. Now, say there is another person who has developed an experimental, but quite effective Anti-Bully Charm. So far it only works on verbal abuse, but in this case it would be sufficient. Don't you think this person is morally obligated to teach this charm to the poor soul who is being victimized?"

He furrowed his brow in confusion. "Of course, but I'm not quite sure why you feel you need my permission, unless..." Then a look of realization suddenly crossed the Headmaster's face. "We're not talking about just any bully are we?"

Veronica smiled devilishly . "Hypothetically-- no."

Dumbledore sighed heavily. "You're certain your charm will not backfire on this particularly vulnerable individual?"

"It won't, I promise."

"Nor cause any permanent damage to the bully?"

She scowled. "No, unfortunately."

"Then, Veronica, you must do what you think is right."

*

The next day, Veronica asked Neville to stay after class. "I know you asked me not to interfere with your situation with Professor Snape, but I have a new charm that I know will solve the problem once and for all. I've already spoken to the Headmaster and he said it was all right for me to teach it to you. Don't worry, I didn't mention you by name."

Neville sighed, visibly appreciative and annoyed at the same time. "I know you're trying to help, but I'm a complete washout when it comes to magic. I'm sure I couldn't make the charm work. Professor Snape is right, I am useless."

"Now, I'll not have talk like that," she said firmly. "I don't know how, but people like Professor Snape seem to know exactly what to say to make a person feel awful about themselves. It doesn't make what they say true. You're doing just fine in my class and Professor Sprout tells me you're one of her best students."

"But that's just Herbology," he protested.

"_Just_ Herbology?! I couldn't make mold grow on a piece of stale bread if I tried," Veronica told him. "I was the _worst_, you just ask Professor Sprout if I wasn't. It takes a special kind of person to cultivate living things." 

He flushed with pride. "This charm of yours, it's pretty good?"

Veronica lit up like a child with a shiny new toy. "At the risk of sounding immodest, it's bloody brilliant! He won't know what hit him."

Neville's face broke out in a broad smile. "When do we start?"

*

Professor Snape dreaded Potions class with the fifth-year Gryffindors almost as much as the students did. Potter, Weasley, Granger and Longbottom were the reasons why. Longbottom especially irritated him in a way even Harry Potter couldn't. In the back of his mind, he knew it was because Longbottom was a constant reminder of past sins Snape could never hope to atone for. By the time Longbottom's parents had been attacked, Voldemort had been vanquished and Snape was teaching at Hogwarts. Mrs. Chitterlow, the Auror's wife he brutally murdered, wasn't Longbottom's mother, but she could have been. A part of him knew that taking it out on the boy was dreadfully unfair, but Snape was a dreadfully unfair man.

As if on cue, Snape heard a loud crash come from the Gryffindor side of the classroom. Longbottom had knocked over a bottle of Culrage extract.

"Professor Snape," said Ron Weasley, "don't blame Neville. I accidentally bumped--"

"Shut up, Weasley," he snapped.

Perhaps it was because Snape had bullied Longbottom so many times in the past that he didn't notice that Neville did not have the familiar look of panic in his eyes as Snape approached. Instead he had an expectant, almost excited, expression on his face. 

"Mr. Longbottom, have you ever been in a room for more that ten minutes without breaking something? Your blundering incompetence is a hazard to wizarding society!" Almost instantly, Snape heard his cruel words reverberate against the walls of the dungeon and then pound in his ears. He was assailed by paralyzing feelings of anger and fear. He scanned the faces of the other students. They didn't seem to be experiencing what he was.

He turned back to Neville and found the boy regarding him with a triumphant expression that said, 'you can't hurt me anymore.'

Snape's rage began to swell again, but something told him it would be unwise to lash out at Longbottom a second time. He swallowed his vitriolic comments and said as gingerly as he could, "Just be more careful next time." He couldn't even bring himself to assign detention; the fear was that incapacitating. 

The entire class was staring at him in confusion. Potter and Weasley looked from Neville to Snape and back again, large grins breaking out on their faces. Snape wanted to shout at them, but was too terrified. He sat down and mumbled, "Everyone, just get back to work." He hid his hands under the desk so the students wouldn't see that they were trembling.

Snape had never heard of a charm or curse that could have this sort of an affect on a person. Longbottom was incapable of performing even the simplest of spells; it was ridiculous to think he could have come up with this himself. There was only one person who could be responsible for this outrage-- Professor Stanley. _That bitch!_

Only after class was dismissed and Longbottom was out of sight could Snape regained control of himself. He stamped to Professor Stanley's office and banged loudly on the door.

"Come in."

She was sitting at her desk and reading the _Daily Prophet _whilemunching on a biscuit. "Ha!" she cried out happily as she read out loud, "'Chudley Cannons Defeat Falmouth Falcons!'" She looked up at Snape as if he'd been there the entire time. "Do you think the Cannons will win the League this time?"

"I didn't come here to discuss Quidditch." Her nonchalant demeanor was pathetically transparent. Her wand was sitting out on her desk. She had been expecting him.

She jumped up out of her chair. "In that case, I've been meaning to ask if you're any good with brooms?" She picked up her broken broom and tried to hand it to him, but he just stood there with arms folded getting angrier by the minute.

"What have you been teaching Neville Longbottom?" he demanded, his rage boiling just below the surface.

She shrugged casually as she propped the pieces of her broom against the wall. "Nothing of any consequence. Just a little Anti-Bully Charm I developed."

Snape used the fact that he was more than a head taller than Stanley to his benefit. He loomed over her in his most intimidating posture. "How _dare_ you teach a student to use magic against me-- especially in front of other students!" 

She stood on her toes in an unsuccessful attempt to neutralize his height advantage. "How dare you use your position of authority to demean that boy! Do you like to drown kittens and kick sick puppies, too?"

Stanley's uncharacteristic show of anger was a strange contrast to her usual, irritatingly cheerful disposition, but Snape was determined she would not confound him this time. "That," he snarled, "is beside the point! Dumbledore will hear about this and you'll be out on your--!"

"He already knows," she told him. "He gave me his tacit approval before I taught the Anti-Bully Charm to Neville. It's about time we Spares started fighting back."

"Spares?" he asked in bewilderment. "What are you talking about?"

"I am referring to what Voldemort said right before he had Cedric Diggory murdered. He told his lackey to 'Kill the spare'. It was in the 'unofficial' Ministry report. When I read that I thought to myself, that sums it up perfectly. We-- the Hufflepuffs, the Neville Longbottoms of the world-- are the Spares. The Insignificant and Expendable. Well, I think I speak for all the Spares when I say that we are bloody sick of it and we're not going to tolerate it anymore!"

Finally, he was beginning to see her for the cunning, deceitful creature she really was. "Now, I understand why my Slytherins have been getting second-rate treatment from you. I don't care what Dumbledore said, I'll have you sacked if it's the last thing I do!"

"Oh dear, the poor defenseless Slytherins," she said, clutching her heart in feigned concern. "Your little group I lovingly refer to as the Death Eaters of Tomorrow are not the ones in need of protection! Your old Head of House, Professor Balin would be so proud to see how you've followed in his footsteps."

"_What_?!" She might as well have slapped his face, it probably would have hurt less. "_What did you just say_?" 

"Your attitude, the wonderful way you deal with students-- you're just like him."

Snape took a few steps towards her. He must have looked as furious as he felt because she retreated slightly and actually seemed a little frightened. "You don't know anything about me," he told her in a low, deadly tone. "_Go to hell!_" Snape then turned on his heel and left her office.

***


	3. Permanent Records

****

Chapter Three: Permanent Records

News of the Anti-Bully Charm and its effects on Snape quickly spread throughout the school. Most of the students, including some of the Slytherins, were anxious to learn it. With the exception of Professor Sprout and Hagrid, the other professors publicly denounced Veronica's actions because it set a bad precedent for dealing with teacher-student conflicts, but they managed to express their secret approval in private. Even the stern McGonagall gave Veronica a little wink and a smile when they passed each other in the corridor. 

Though she didn't regret teaching Neville to defend himself, Veronica felt a little bad for Snape. Unlike Professor Balin who thoroughly enjoyed being evil incarnate, Snape didn't seem to enjoy anything at all. In fact, she couldn't remember knowing anyone who worked so hard at being miserable. Perhaps she had judged him too harshly.

For the rest of that day and through the next, Veronica got the distinct impression that she had hurt Snape's feelings badly. He usually glowered at her several times during each meal from his place at the staff table, but he didn't even glance once in her direction. And she knew that she'd really stepped in it after her lecture to the Slytherins on the defense of the Conjunctivitis Curse because Snape didn't show up at her office to complain.

Any twinge of guilt Veronica might have felt disappeared—at least temporarily—when she walked into class after lunch. The fifth-year Gryffindors were all sitting in their seats beaming at her. On her desk was a gorgeous bouquet of winter flowers (from Neville) and a handmade card. On the front of the card was a drawing of a black badger throttling a silver serpent with its teeth. As she watched, the badger proceeded to make a meal of the snake. Inside, the words, 'Please stay!' were written in large, sparkling letters. It was signed by the whole class as well as several other Gryffindor students. She wanted to cry. 

"When that charm hit Snape, it was even better than when Professor Moody turned Malfoy into the Incredible Bouncing Ferret last year," Ron told her. "Up until yesterday, I considered that the finest moment in my life."

Veronica tried to look disapproving, but couldn't help grinning_. I would have paid to have seen that._

"I still don't think it's a good idea for students to use magic against teachers," Hermione said quietly.

Ron winced. "Why do you always do that? She's always trying to ruin my perfect moments."

Stanley held up her hand for silence. "Miss Granger has a point."

Hermione glared at Ron smugly.

"I don't want what happened yesterday to give you the impression that I advocate students having contempt for their teachers. Everyone at Hogwarts deserves to be treated with respect, even Professor Snape." Stanley scanned the faces of the students, trying to look appropriately severe. "Understood?"

They all nodded reluctantly.

Neville raised his hand. "We heard that you're going to leave after next term. Is that true?"

She nodded. "I have another job. I'm just filling in for the year."

"We've had three good Defense teachers in a row," Ron told her. "Our lucky streak can't possibly last. The next one is bound to be a loser." 

"With our luck they'll probably foist Lockhart on us again," said Harry glumly.

Most of the class groaned. A couple of the girls giggled.

Stanley frowned. "_Gilderoy_ Lockhart?"

"You know him?"

"Met him once." Veronica had found him to be an utter cretin. "_He_ was your Defense Against the Dark Arts professor? Oh dear."

"We're getting to her," Ron said happily.

He was right, they were getting to her. As rewarding as her position was at the Madragora Institute for Magical Research, it never gave her the feeling of pride she was experiencing right now. She wished she could bring herself to tell them what they wanted to hear, but they couldn't understand how difficult it was for her to walk into this classroom day after day. She smiled. "I'll think about it. Now, do you mind if we get on with the lesson?"

*

As he had during breakfast and lunch, Snape refused to even sneer at Veronica during dinner. She tried to speak to him as he left the table, but he gathered his black robes around him dramatically without even glancing in her direction and stormed away to his dungeon. Veronica then went to her office and placed a fireplace call to the Institute.

First, she was confronted by the face of a hideous guard hag. "This fireplace is restricted," she said in a surly tone, "what's the magic word?"

"Fizzing Whizbees," she replied. The guard hag vanished and was replaced by the chubby face of her colleague and best mate, Win. His real name was Winston, but only his mother called him that. "Hello, Win."

"Hey, Vee!" He and Veronica had been in the same year at Hogwarts, but he was a Ravenclaw. His dishwater blond hair was tied back in an unattractive ponytail and he was sucking on a Sugar Quill. Despite his rather humble appearance, Win was one of the best researchers the Institute had. Not only was he a Charms expert, he could find anything. "How are the little monsters?"

She smiled wryly. "It's like being on holiday."

"If you're calling about the bet..."

With everything else going on, Veronica had completely forgotten about that. She retrieved her copy of yesterday's _Daily Prophet _and displayed the headline about the Cannons' triumph gleefully. "Somebody owes my five galleons!"

He scowled. "You'll get your money and I'll put in a little extra for the next time you go to Hogsmeade."

"Let me guess, Jelly Slugs?" 

He nodded. "The extra large ones, please." he smiled nostalgically. "Honeydukes still has the best."

"Keep it up and you won't be able to stand under your own weight," Veronica said. "We'll have to levitate you around the office."

"Yes, Mum," he said, rolling his eyes.

"I go to Hogsmeade most Saturdays, so I'll pick them up this weekend." She and Hagrid usually had a pint at the Three Broomsticks on Saturday afternoons. "Say, Win, the other reason I rang is that I need you to send me everything the Ministry has on a wizard named Severus Snape."

He raised an eyebrow. "As in _everything_?"

"Please. And if you could de-charm the file and make sure it's, uh, combustible—just in case."

He grinned wickedly. "Sure thing, Vee. Severus Snape…" Win furrowed his brow. "Why does that name sound so familiar?" After a few seconds, a look of nauseated recollection came over him. "Oh, god-- greasy-haired, big-nosed git, walked around like he had a broomstick up his--?"

"That's the one," Veronica said, cutting him off. "And please be discreet."

"Aren't I always? You'll have it by breakfast." Win paused and took the Sugar Quill out of his mouth. "We miss you, Vee. Graham was just saying the other day how much he longs for your daily love taps."

Veronica laughed. Graham, a former Slytherin (the only one she had ever met that was worth a damn), was her fellow Dark Arts expert at the Institute. Her 'love taps' were actually the daily Cruciatus Curses she would throw at him. They had been trying to discover a way to block the terrible curse, but all they ever got for their research were splitting headaches. Nigel, the other member of their group of friends, was the Transfiguration specialist. "You tell Graham that I still think he curses like a little girl. And say hi to Nigel for me." 

The package from Win arrived by next morning's owl post as promised, but it wasn't until after classes that Veronica could devote her full attention to Snape's file. She read it through once. "Oh my…" Then she read it again to make certain she'd gotten it right the first time. "Oh dear. I owe someone a very big apology." She gathered his files and made her way down to the dungeon.

*

Snape doubted things could get much worse as he sat sulking in his dungeon office. Because of that stupid charm, he was the laughing stock of the entire school—and the worst part was that he couldn't even take it out on Longbottom. Dumbledore refused to even entertain the notion of sacking that—_woman._ In fact, the Headmaster seemed to find the whole thing rather amusing. A knock on his door interrupted his self pitying thoughts. "Go away!"

"Professor Snape, could I speak to you for a moment?"

A nasty grimace crossed his pallid features. It was Stanley. "You are the very last person I wish to speak to!" he snapped. "Unless, of course, you've come to tell me you've resigned your position."

"No, but I have come to apologize."

He opened the door and found the little woman standing there in her absurd yellow robes, cow-eyed, with an armful of parchments. "For what exactly? You've insulted me in so many different ways, it would help if you could be a tad more specific. Could it be for coaching Longbottom to make a fool of me in front of a classroom full of students or is it for accusing me of being the personification of evil?"

"The second one. I'm so sorry for ever saying you were like Professor Balin." She gazed up at him with such a sincere look of regret he decided to hear her out. Snape motioned for her to come in and sit down.

He remained standing, arms folded across his chest with a wounded expression on his face. "Why your sudden change of heart?"

The smile Stanley bestowed upon him was filled with joy and gratitude. "It was you," she said as if that explained it all.

"It was me, what?"

"You were the one who set the trap for Professor Balin. That," she paused, trying to search for an appropriate phrase, "dementor masquerading as a human being is rotting in Azkaban because of you."

Snape stared at her in disbelief. Even Balin didn't know he was responsible. No one knew except for Dumbledore and Alastor Moody. Moody, one of three Aurors sent to take Balin into custody, was the only one who survived—just barely. "How in hell do you know that? Did 

Dumbledore—?"

"No." She held out the parchments in her hand. "I read it in Moody's report. It was in your Ministry file."

He snatched the parchments out of her hand angrily. "How dare you invade my privacy!"

"I didn't think you'd tell me why you were so upset if I asked you."

"How very perceptive of you," he growled. "Where did you get this?"

"We—the Institute, I mean—have access to virtually any file we want." She looked away guiltily. "Even the ones we're not supposed to have access to."

An unpleasant grin crossed Snape's face. Now he had the ammunition he needed to get this rule-breaker out of this school, once and for all. He was just about to gloat triumphantly when she said: 

"Everything the Ministry has on you is there. Do what you want with it. I've already informed Win— my colleague at the Institute— and he has already conveniently forgotten he ever sent it to me."

"Sorry?"

"Shred it, burn it, do whatever you like with it."

He studied the file in his hand. _Everything the Ministry has on you is there._ This was too good to be true. It had to be a trick. But when he looked in her eyes all he saw was infinite thankfulness. _I wonder what Balin did to her?_ "Won't the Ministry of Magic object?"

"They'll never know," Stanley answered confidently.

"What about charms?"

"Win already removed them."

"Copies?"

"There are none. That is your one and only permanent record," she replied gleefully. "The one your mother warned you about. Win will put a dummy file in its place and seal it with an Unbreakable Charm. If they ever do manage to figure out how to open it—maybe in a hundred years or so— all it will contain is a recipe for Chocolate Frogs. I figure I— the world owes you a little something for what you did." She stood grinning at him for a few seconds then turned to leave.

"Does this mean you won't be teaching your Anti-Bully Charm to anyone else?" Snape asked.

"Goodness no!" Stanley replied brightly. "Starting tomorrow all my students will begin learning it. By the way, there's no counterspell, so I suggest you find some other outlet for your, uh, frustrations. I hear Yoga is absolutely wonderful for that sort of thing."

He glowered at her. "I'll take that under advisement." As soon as she closed the door behind her, Snape took his one and only permanent record and threw it on the fire.

*

During dinner that evening, Stanley caught Snape's eye several times and positively beamed at him. At first he thought her interest in him was romantic in nature, but then he realized she was just looking at him as if he was her best friend in the whole world. 

Snape had hoped that her sudden affection for him would change her mind about teaching her charm to anyone else, but he found Professor Stanley was as good as her word. A few days after her apology, he forgot himself and yelled at Potter during Potions. He then spent the remainder of the hour trembling with fear. Grudgingly, he had to admit that this Anti-Bully Charm of hers was an impressive piece of magic—though he'd rather be drawn and quartered than tell her so. He was curious to know how it worked. He was also curious to know why she looked as if she were about to hug him at any given moment; so he used her lecture to the Slytherins on the Shield Charm as an excuse to visit her in her office.

A kind smile on her face, she invited him to sit down. There was a plate of delicious scones on her desk. "I figured you'd be in to grouse so I nicked some scones from the kitchen. I hope you like blackberry."

"We're not friends," he declared, trying to look more dour than usual.

"Of course not," she said as she poured two cups of tea, "we're the deadliest of enemies. I'd be careful before you eat one of those. It could be booby-trapped."

"I don't want a scone." Actually, he did. It just so happened that blackberry scones were his favorite, but he was determined to remain strong. "And I don't want any tea."

She sat down across from him and pushed the plate of scones closer to him. He eyed them longingly, glared at her, then pushed them away.

"That charm of yours—marginally interesting little spell," he said blandly. "How does it work?"

"Who did you yell at today?" Stanley asked, trying not to laugh.

Snape sighed. "Potter. Is it a shield of some kind?" 

"No," she replied, "the charm acts more like a mirror. The abuse is deflected from the bully's intended victim and bounces back onto the bully giving him a taste of his own medicine."

__

Then why do I feel such fear? He kept the question to himself lest she ask him what he's afraid of.

"So, what did you decide to do with your file?" Stanley asked as she sipped her tea.

"I burned it," he replied. "I suppose that makes me an accessory after the fact."

"Don't worry, I won't tell anyone."

"I still don't understand why you gave it to me. What's in it for you?"

She looked away from him. "I told you, it's just my way of saying thank you. Besides, I've seen our benevolent Ministry use those records more than once to bludgeon people who've made youthful mistakes. 'Do what we want or we'll _accidentally _leak your file to the press.' The late Barty Crouch was the worst offender, but he wasn't the only one. I have a feeling things are going to get nasty before long."

__

Very nasty. "A Death Eater under every bed. Yes, I know. I was there for all the fun the first time around, remember?"

"Of course." She paused and gazed at him shyly. "May I see it?"

"What?"

She tapped the inner aspect of her left arm. "You know, _it_. The Dark Mark. One doesn't get to see many up close."

Affronted, he jumped out of his chair. "No, you may not!"

She grinned. "Oh, come on. I'll show you mine if you show me yours."

"You don't have a Mark."

"I most certainly do." She removed her old-fashioned button-up boot and stocking. She pulled up her yellow robe to reveal a magical tattoo of a man in bright orange robes sitting on a broom. He was flying around her ankle, waving. "It's Paul Quinn, the Cannons' old Seeker. I was eighteen-- right out of Hogwarts. My friend and I had spent an afternoon at the Leaky Cauldron getting absolutely pissed— I mean, inebriated on Firewhiskey before we stumbled our way into The Silver Gauntlet Magical Tattoo and Piercing Parlor." She grinned sheepishly. "It seemed like a good idea at the time."

He snorted. "I hardly think a ill-chosen tattoo compares to the Dark Mark."

"Well, we all make stupid mistakes when we're young."

He shook his head and almost smiled. This woman had an uncanny knack of disarming him in the oddest ways. "It's not visible anyway."

She rose. "Just let me see your arm."

He sighed, held out his left arm and pulled up his sleeve. She ran her hand over his exposed forearm and the Dark Mark appeared for a few seconds. A Death Eater trick. He gaped at her in surprise. "Where did you learn that?"

"I'm a Dark Arts expert, I know things," she replied enigmatically.

He regarded her warily. Something in her expression told him she was hiding something. Lightening-quick, he grabbed her left wrist with one hand and pushed up the sleeve of her robe with the other. He ran his hand over her exposed forearm. Nothing. She looked more amused than offended, but that didn't stop him from feeling like a complete idiot. "I'm sorry."

"Think nothing of it," Stanley chuckled. "I get mistaken for a Death Eater all the time."

Snape was just about to let her hand go when he noticed that her watchband had slipped down, revealing a deep, horizontal scar across her wrist. "Another youthful mistake?"

She shrugged nonchalantly, but tried to pull her hand away. "I had a little accident when I was fifteen."

He took up her other hand and found a matching scar on her right wrist as well, underneath her sleeve.

She tried to laugh it off, but pulled away and rolled down her sleeves to cover the scars. "I was a particularly clumsy girl."

Stanley didn't seem the suicidal type, even as a hormonally deranged teenager (in Snape's opinion, all teenage girls were just to the right of insane). The question that he had been tempted to ask the other day came to mind once more. "What did Balin do to you, Veronica?" It was the first time he had ever called her by her given name. It seemed silly to do otherwise at this point.

She rushed to her desk, sat down and started shuffling through the parchments on her desk. "I really need to get to these essays. If I don't have them graded by tomorrow as promised, Miss Granger will have a fit. That girl drives me absolutely batty sometimes. I know I really should speak more kindly of her, after all she reminds me of myself when I was her age; always raising my hand, irritating my professors—"

"Is that why Balin hurt you, because you irritated him?"

Silence except for her infernal paper shuffling. 

"If you don't wish to discuss it just say so."

"I don't—I can't," Veronica replied, "but thank you for asking, Severus." 

***


	4. Insult to Injury

****

Chapter Four: Insult to Injury

It was a cold, but clear December afternoon; the first clear day in over a week. Raging storms had strewn branches and debris all over the usually immaculate grounds. Veronica had just paid a visit to Professor Sprout in the greenhouse. As she often did, Sprout gave her former student a plant for her office. Veronica had not been kidding when she told Neville Longbottom that she had a brown thumb. Not one of the plants Sprout had given her had lasted more than two weeks. Veronica decided instead to give it to Hagrid for his cabin. Certainly, the little plant ran the risk of being eaten by one of Hagrid's interesting but dangerous creatures, but she suspected it had a better chance of survival than if it remained in her hands. 

Veronica stopped suddenly near the pumpkin patch and almost dropped the plant when another horrific flashback hit her. Ever since Severus had discovered the scars on her wrists, Veronica had found the memories of the reasons behind her suicide attempt invading her mind more frequently than ever before. If it happened when she was alone, she could handle it, but that was increasingly not the case. Yesterday, she had been standing in front of a classroom full of students when a flashback had struck her. She had been forced to run out into the corridor to collect herself. Veronica took a deep breath and pushed the thought into the back of her mind. The Memory-Suppression Spells she had been using for years were becoming less and less effective. _I'll dump it all in the Pensieve tonight, _she promised herself. It was the same promise she hadn't kept for two years.

As she approached a cluster of bushes, the sound of cruel laughter reached her ears and made her blood run cold. She put the plant down and, as quietly as she could, crept into the clearing beyond the shrubbery. She discovered three boys she immediately recognized as Messrs. Crabbe and Goyle and their leader, Draco Malfoy, squatting on the ground trifling with something. As she came closer, Veronica could see Malfoy had his wand out and was pointing it at a frog. The frog was twitching and writhing horribly. She didn't have to hear the words to know that the poor creature was being tortured with the Cruciatus Curse. She couldn't see Malfoy's expression as he had his back to her, but the profiles of Crabbe and Goyle were twisted into savage expressions of delight. Such fury as she had not let herself feel in years washed over her. Veronica drew her wand and screamed, "_EXPELLIARMUS!"_

Malfoy whipped his head around as his wand flew out of his hand and into hers. Crabbe and Goyle took one look at Veronica in twin shock and ran away, leaving their beloved leader to meet his fate alone. Malfoy looked as if he, too, was about to bolt, but his desire to retrieve his property proved stronger. He angrily ran over to her. "_Give me back my wand!"_

Veronica looked him right in the eye and broke his wand in half.

"You can't do that!" he cried. "That wand cost more than you make in a year!"

"Well, then," she hissed, "you should be more careful where you point it."

Hagrid came barreling out of his cabin and ran to the arguing pair, moleskin overcoat flapping behind him. "I heard shoutin'. You all right, Vee?"

"I'm fine, Hagrid, which is more than I can say for this poor frog." She pointed to the contorted creature on the ground. "Apparently, Mr. Malfoy thinks it's funny to torture animals."

Hagrid's eyes narrowed and he regarded Malfoy dangerously. "Torturin' animals, eh? Dumbledore'll have you out for this. 'Bout time, too."

Malfoy sneered at the immense man, but held his tongue.

The crippled frog continued to twitch. Veronica had to stop herself from turning her wand on Malfoy. She pointed it instead at the dying creature. "_Avada Kedavra_!" With a flash of green light the frog was mercifully still.

The half-giant took a step back, a look of fearful respect on his face. Even Malfoy seemed impressed, though Draco's countenance quickly returned to its familiar expression of haughty disdain.

"Hagrid," said Veronica in a tone of forced calm, "I was wondering if you would be so kind as to help me escort Mr. Malfoy to the Headmaster's office."

Hagrid grabbed a handful of Malfoy's robes in his huge hand. "Be my pleasure, Professor."

*

As Snape made his way to Dumbledore's office, he steeled himself for what promised to be an

unpleasant conference. Unpleasant because he would have to defend Draco Malfoy against Veronica—someone he was beginning to see as less of an annoyance and more of a friend. He just hoped she would eventually understand why he took the position he was forced to take.

Snape gave the password to the gargoyle guarding the entrance to Dumbledore's office and climbed the spiral staircase. He knocked on the polished oak door with its brass knocker, but could not be heard over the shouting; so he let himself in. Veronica and Draco Malfoy were yelling at each other—something about a frog. Dumbledore, his elbow propped up on his desk with his chin in his hand, was obviously allowing the pair to blow off steam, but appeared relieved when he gazed up and saw Severus. The Headmaster called for a temporary cease-fire while he brought Snape up to speed.

Snape pulled up a chair next to Malfoy and sat down. "You must have been mistaken, Professor Stanley. Where would a young boy learn the Cruciatus Curse?" Snape knew the question to be ludicrous but he had a part to play.

Veronica snorted. "I assure you, Professor Snape, I know the Cruciatus Curse when I see it."

"While we're on the subject of Unforgivable Curses," Malfoy pointed an accusatory finger at Stanley. "She used the Killing Curse right in front of me to kill that frog she says she cares so much about." 

"Only after you crippled it!" she replied.

"Mr. Malfoy," said Dumbledore, "Professor Stanley has special permission from the Ministry to use those curses."

Malfoy tried to muster a look of concern. "But what if she starts using them on students?"

Veronica glowered at the boy as if to say, 'Don't tempt me.'

Malfoy shook his head with a condescending grin on his face. "All this fuss over a frog. It's irrational. Father will not be pleased when he finds out that an hysterical woman with knowledge of the Unforgivable Curses is teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"That's enough, young man," Dumbledore said firmly. "For this transgression you will be assigned a week's detention. You will assist Mr. Filch in cleaning out the rain gutters on the castle towers. Don't worry, you'll have company. Mr. Crabbe and Mr. Goyle will be joining you."

"A week?!" Malfoy whined. "I'll miss Quidditch practice! We have a game in just over a week against Gryffindor."

"A week does seem excessive," Snape said, casting a practiced scowl at Stanley. "After all, it was _just_ a frog." His comment had the desired effect. Veronica fumed, but she also looked hurt. Honorable people were so easy to manipulate.

"A week it is," replied the Headmaster. "You're very lucky I don't pull you off the Slytherin Quidditch team for this. If it happens again, you'll be expelled. Dismissed."

A furious Draco rose to leave then pointed to his broken wand on the Headmaster's desk. "What about my wand?"

Snape picked up the two pieces and examined them "I'm certain Ollivander can repair it. Might I suggest Headmaster, that the cost of repairs be deducted from Professor Stanley's wages?" 

"What?!" Veronica cried, outraged. 

Snape glared at her coldly. "Though confiscating the boy's wand _might_ have been appropriate under the circumstances, you don't have the right to destroy his property." 

Veronica turned to Dumbledore for support, but the old wizard eyed her apologetically. 

"I'm afraid Professor Snape has a point. Disarming the boy should have been enough. I'm sorry, Veronica."

She sighed. "Well, there goes my new broom."

Malfoy smirked at Veronica in triumph and left the Headmaster's office.

"Thank you both for your overwhelming support," she said, scowling at Snape and Dumbledore. "Severus, I cannot understand why you allow that little monster to get away with murder."

Snape and Dumbledore gave each other a significant look. 

"Veronica," the Headmaster began, "Severus has told me that you know of his spying activities before Voldemort's downfall. He trusts you—as do I—to tell you that he is once again infiltrating the Death Eaters in order to gain information so we can fight Voldemort. Because of this, his loyalties must remain vague."

Her expression softened a little, but she still appeared annoyed. "So the broody, tortured demeanor; the bullying of Neville Longbottom and any other student who isn't a Slytherin—all an act?" Veronica asked the question as if she already knew the answer.

Snape looked away from her uncomfortably. "Well, not all of it." Even he had a hard time distinguishing fact from fiction sometimes. "I do what I have to do."

"I see," she said. "Oh, the bit about me paying for the wand—nice touch."

"If you can't afford it," Snape said, "perhaps I could—"

Veronica snatched the pieces of the wand out of Snape's hand in irritation and shoved them in her pocket. "No, I'll take care of it. Wouldn't want you to blow your cover."

"It will placate the boy's father," Dumbledore said. "If you knew Lucius Malfoy you would understand why Draco is the way that he is." 

She shook her head. "Certain sacrifices have to be made for the good of the wizarding community, is that it?" 

"Yes, Veronica," the Headmaster replied.

"And in the meantime, innocent students might get hurt," Stanley said, her voice raising slightly. "Neither of you seriously believes Malfoy is restricting his tortures to small animals, do you? You should have expelled him."

"That boy would be even more dangerous outside of Hogwarts," Dumbledore explained. "His father would just send him to Durmstrang and his training as a Dark wizard would be completely unhampered. At least here we can keep an eye on him."

"Is that why you kept Professor Balin around, to keep an eye on him?" she blurted out suddenly. "Did it matter that he had access to children and was doing—?" Veronica stopped when she realized Snape and Dumbledore were staring at her. "I—I'm sorry… if you gentlemen will excuse me." She got up and rushed to the door.

"Veronica, I know something happened to you when you were a student here," Dumbledore said gently. "Perhaps now is a good time to get it off your chest."

She turned and laughed mirthlessly. "Get it off my chest?! It's funny that you should put it just that way." Veronica proceeded to unbutton the top three buttons of her robe. She pulled the fabric aside to reveal the area just above her heart. 

Both men gasped.

Emblazoned on her chest was a grotesque tattoo of a skull with a snake for it's tongue. _The Dark Mark_! It wasn't black like a Death Eater's, it was only a shadowy outline. Snape had never seen one like it before.

"You see, I can't get it off my chest. Believe me, I've tried." She glanced at Snape. "I can't even hide it. It was burned into me when I was fifteen by Professor Balin." She glared at Dumbledore, her eyes welling with tears and rage. "You knew what he was. _You let it happen_!" Then Veronica ran out the door.

Snape watched the door slam, trying to absorb what he had just seen. _So that's what Balin did to her!_ He wondered perversely what Voldemort would say if he knew that one of his most loyal servants had been burning the Dark Lord's symbol into innocent teenage girls.

"Severus," said Dumbledore looking even more distressed than Snape felt. "I need you to go after her. Veronica needs a friend right now."

"Me? Why me?" Snape protested. "Why don't you do it? You're so much better at this supportive friend business than I am."

"I doubt she'd be interested in anything I have to say."

"I'm sure she didn't mean what she said." Snape said this partly to reassure Dumbledore, but mostly to convince the old wizard that he rather than Snape was the right man for this job. When Dumbledore refused to budge, Severus sighed heavily and made for the door_. This friend rubbish is overrated._

*

Snape found Veronica in her office, preparing to hurl her incredibly rare and outrageously expensive copy of the ancient Dark Arts text, the _Infusco Diabolus, _into the fireplace. Severus pulled it out her hand and put in back on the bookshelf. "If you don't want it anymore perhaps you should donate it to Hogwarts' library. We haven't had a copy in years. You wouldn't know what happened to the old one, would you?"

"He sent you here, didn't he?" she said, ignoring his question. "Probably afraid I'd slash my wrists again."

"Dumbledore is concerned," Snape replied as he sat down. "And I must admit that I am more than a little curious to know why Balin did that to you."

Veronica started to pace nervously. "He was an evil son of a bitch, what more reason do you need than that?"

"In my experience, even evil sons of bitches usually need some kind of motivation to do what they do."

"Well, perhaps you'd like to see for yourself." She took the Pensieve off the bookshelf and placed it on her desk. "I was just about to dump the memories in here. Something I've been meaning to do for a long time."

__

Memories? Was there more than one incident? As curious as he was, Snape didn't relish the idea of literally poking into someone else's past. "I thought perhaps you could just tell me what happened."

__

She took a step back from the stone basin and regarded it as if it were some kind of dangerous animal getting ready to bite her. "No, I think it would be better if you saw it. Maybe it isn't as bad as I remember. Perhaps I am just an hysterical woman." 

He heard a note of challenge in her voice, but she looked as if she'd be grateful to not have to experience it alone. _How bad could it be? _Not only had Snape been Burned himself, he had witnessed Balin torture and kill on several occasions. It couldn't be any worse than what he'd already seen. Severus got up and stood next to the Pensieve. "All right then. Show me."

With a deep breath and a trembling hand, Veronica placed the tip of her wand to her temple and pulled out several silvery-white strands, placing each into the Pensieve. Snape soon saw the familiar image of the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom come into focus. 

Veronica tucked her wand back in her pocket and turned to Snape. "Ready?" He nodded as they both reached inside the basin and touched the silvery liquid…

Suddenly, he was hurtled headlong into a cold and dark whirlpool. Then, Professors Snape and Stanley stood unnoticed amongst the classroom full of fifth-year Hufflepuffs. It didn't take Snape more than a few seconds to recognize young Veronica sitting in the front row. She had the same unruly, curly brown hair and large, intelligent brown eyes. Stanley was a small woman, but as a tiny teenage girl, she barely looked twelve.

Professor Balin, as intimidating as Snape remembered him, glared at the Hufflepuffs with his piercing blue eyes, almost daring them to meet his gaze. "Your essays on Odras Demons left much to be desired, but when one is saddled with a class of Hufflepuffs, one cannot expect too much." He handed the essays back to each student. "Mr. Langdon, your atrocious spelling pales in comparison to your inability to compose even one coherent sentence. Miss Grey." He passed a paper to a pretty blonde girl in the third row. "A waste of ink and parchment, but more importantly, a waste of my time." Next, Balin handed a parchment to Veronica. "Miss Stanley—marginal. Mr. Pyecraft." A mousy boy sitting behind Veronica reached out for his essay, his hand trembling slightly. Balin went to give it to him then at the last moment crumpled the parchment into a little ball. He threw it at the boy hitting him square on the forehead. "Rubbish." 

Snape saw little Veronica get a familiar look of righteous indignation on her face. It was the same look the grown-up version had when she and Snape argued about his bullying of Neville Longbottom. Wisely, she didn't dare show her anger to Professor Balin. Somehow, he sensed it anyway.

"What is it, Miss Stanley?"

"I-I didn't say anything," she said, trying to disappear into her chair.

Balin glowered at her. "You were about to. I can always tell. The hackles on the back of my neck start to rise. What is it?"

"Nothing, really." He continued to glare at her until she said, "It's just that Herbert's paper wasn't that bad."

"Did you help him with it?"

"A little," she admitted.

"Well, then it should have been far better than it was." Balin snatched Miss Stanley's essay out of her hand and tore it in half. "Both you and Mr. Pyecraft will receive bottom marks. And fifty points from Hufflepuff for telling me how to run my class."

Snape shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot when he couldn't help recognizing more than a little of himself in his former professor. As he felt Professor Stanley's accusing eyes on him, he turned to her and protested, "I've never thrown anything at Longbottom." 

When the bell rang, not one of the students moved an inch from their seats until Professor Balin said, "Dismissed." As the relieved Hufflepuffs filed out of class, Professor Stanley took a chair in the back of the room. Snape remained standing.

"Miss Stanley, a moment of your time," Balin said to young Veronica right before she made it into the sanctuary of the corridor. She hung back as her classmates left. Even though the girl had just lost their House fifty points, a few of the other Hufflepuffs gave her sympathetic glances.

The girl gingerly approached Professor Balin sitting at his desk. "Yes sir?"

"Hand it over," he ordered.

Her eyes shifted to the floor. "I don't know what you mean."

"The book, the _Infusco Diabolus_. I can smell it from here."

Veronica glanced at the door and looked as if she were about to bolt.

Professor Balin sighed and pulled out his wand. He pointed it at her book bag. "_Accio!_"

The flap of her bag opened and out flew an ancient black book into his hand. He turned it over lovingly. "This volume is restricted to faculty only. Now, how do you suppose a silly little fifth-year Hufflepuff came into possession of it?" 

"I nicked it from the library when Madam Pince wasn't looking," she replied in a small, frightened voice.

"Surely, not without help. An older student must have helped you. Your brother perhaps?"

Her eyes went wide with alarm. "Tim had nothing to do with it!" 

Even Snape from his vantage point could tell she was lying and doing it very badly. Balin raised an eyebrow and glared at her. "Don't lie to me, girl."

Under Balin's intense scrutiny, young Veronica eventually admitted her brother's involvement, but added, "Tim had no idea what it was."

"And you do?"

She nodded. "I did some reading over the summer about the History of the Dark Arts. All the historians said the _Infusco Diabolus_ is the first Dark Arts book ever. I just wanted to read it, but I couldn't even get it open."

"That is because it's protected by a password, you silly girl. I've always felt it didn't belong in the school library—too much of a temptation for nosy students. What I can't understand is why you took it in the first place? You're not by any chance an aspiring Dark witch are you?" Balin obviously meant it as a joke, but little Veronica took him very seriously.

"No!" she said, horrified he'd even think such a thing.

"Perhaps you want to be an Auror when you," he snorted derisively, "grow up?"

The girl shook her head then dared to look him right in the eye. "I just want to understand it, evil I mean," she said with a guileless expression. "_I just don't understand_."

The subtext of what she was asking was not lost on either Balin or Snape. Little Veronica had the insight to see Balin for what he was and the audacity to believe she could grasp the reasons for his evil. What the girl couldn't possibly know, thought Snape, was how dangerous questions like that were.

"I'm sorry I took the book," she said sincerely. "Please, you can punish me any way you want to, just don't blame Tim."

Balin grinned evilly. "Never say such things unless you really mean them." He pointed his wand at the door; it slammed shut and the bolt slid into place. 

The fact that young Veronica immediately regretted what she just said was obvious from the panic written on her face. 

He picked up the book and tapped it with his wand. _"Relinquo Espero!"_ The book sprang open to an all-too-familiar page containing the earliest known image of the Dark Mark. "You see this symbol?"

Little Veronica looked at the skull and snake with fear mixed with curiosity.

"This, Miss Stanley, is evil in its purest form. But evil is not something you can comprehend from just gazing at an image, it has to be experienced." He stood up, pointed his wand at her and bellowed, "_EXURO MORSMORDRE_!"

A burst of red and green light flashed from his wand. Veronica was too frightened and surprised to react. It hit her square in the chest. Snape had never witnessed anyone being burned with the Dark Mark. Watching the fifteen-year-old Veronica writhing in agony while the evil penetrated every cell in her body brought back the awful memory of his own Burning. When the evil finally left the girl, she lay on the floor whimpering.

After watching her with delectation for a few moments, Balin rose and went to the girl, pulling her to her feet. He took a firm grip of her arm and dragged her to his chair. She was trembling violently and could hardly stand under her own power. He sat on the edge of his desk and loomed over her. "I know it hurts, but someone had to teach you to stop sticking your nose into things you can't possibly understand." He reached out and pulled back the tattered fabric of her robes to reveal the ugly, red Dark Mark above her heart. "Do you know what this means?"

Still shaking with tears streaming down her face, Veronica shook her head .

Balin leaned over and whispered in her ear just loud enough for Snape to hear, "You belong to me."

Young Veronica tried to rise and make a run for it, but he easily pushed her back down in the chair. Balin was twice her size and a thousand times more powerful, Snape thought with a sinking feeling in his stomach.

Balin wiped a tear from Veronica's face and took her chin in his hand. "Never have I seen such beauty."

The terror on her face was replaced momentarily by bewilderment.

"I'm not referring to your outward appearance, my angel. You _look_ like a half-grown scarecrow. I meant the beauty I see in your eyes. It's still there even after what I just did to you. Innocence, hope, faith in the inherent goodness of all people—even me. " He grinned widely. "Don't think I haven't noticed you catching my eye from time to time—searching for that speck of humanity inside of me, but never finding it. And do you know why you've never found it?" He paused and indicated that he expected her to answer. 

"Because it isn't there?" she replied in a choked whisper.

"Well done, Miss Stanley! I would so like to award a whopping fifty points to Hufflepuff for that most excellent answer, but this lesson needs to remain our little secret. I hope you understand."

She nodded

"That's a good girl." Balin took hold of her hand and began stroking it. "I have often wondered what I would have to do to utterly destroy that beauty inside you. How long do you suppose it would take? What do you say we make it our little project for this term?"

With a look of defiance she snatched her hand away. "I'd rather die."

He rolled his soulless eyes and chuckled. "Teenage girls have such a flare for melodrama. Never fear Miss Stanley, I wouldn't kill you for not cooperating with my little experiment. You're free to go. But before you leave…" She flinched when he pointed his wand at her again. "_Textilis!_" the ripped section of her school robe was instantly repaired. "Wouldn't want anyone asking any uncomfortable questions, now would we? Off with you then."

Confused but relieved she got up and staggered to the door. She was about to slide the bolt back when Professor Balin called after her.

"You're brother Tim, he's on the Hufflepuff Quidditch team, isn't he?"

Veronica turned to him apprehensively. "He—he's a Chaser."

"Dangerous game, Quidditch. I do hope he's careful. It would be so unfortunate for a young man with his whole life ahead of him to have a tragic accident."

Veronica lowered her head in despair and put her face in her hands. 

As Severus watched the horrific incident unfold, such anger and disbelief as he had never felt before welled up inside of him. _Why didn't I kill him when I had the chance?_

"Consider this your first lesson, Miss Stanley. Emotions like love and loyalty are weaknesses, they leave one open to all sorts of manipulation." Professor Balin took his chair and motioned for her to come closer, patting his knee. With a look that said she'd rather rip his throat out, little Veronica sat in his lap. 

"Is that hate I see in your eyes?" Balin laughed with delight. "Progress already!" He put one arm around her tiny waist and slipped his other hand underneath her robes. "Well, let's see how much more we can accomplish today, shall we?" 

"That's enough!" Snape declared. He turned away from the appalling scene and found the grown-up Veronica sitting with her legs tucked up to her chest, hugging herself tightly with an expression of terror mirroring that of her younger self.

"_Veronica, that's_ _enough!_"

Suddenly, they were both back in Professor Stanley's office. Veronica sat heavily in her desk chair. With considerable effort, she managed not to burst out into tears, something Severus was very grateful for.

"Tell me that was the only time," he said, considerably agitated himself.

She shook her head. "It went on for four months; not every day, but often enough. Each time more painful and humiliating than the last, though he was always careful not to leave any marks—none that anyone could see anyway." 

"Veronica, you have to believe me—even though I must admit there are some similarities between Balin's teaching methods and my own, I have _never _touched a female student in that way!"

She smiled sadly. "I know. There's one more memory I have to show you—about two months later." Severus began to object, but she pleaded with her eyes. "It's important."

He nodded reluctantly. She once again placed her wand against her temple, removed another silvery-white memory and put it in the Pensieve.

They both touched the liquid and were transported to the hospital wing. Young Veronica was lying in bed, her wrists wrapped with bandages. Obviously, this memory was right after her suicide attempt. A man and a woman Snape recognized as Veronica's parents from the photos in her office were sitting by the bed. Her mother was crying and stroking the girl's forehead. Young Veronica just stared despondently into space.

"Vee, sweetheart, why would you do this to yourself? If there's something wrong you can tell your father and me. We love you no matter what it is."

Mr. Stanley touched his wife's arm when he saw Professor Sprout and Dumbledore enter the room. They both went to speak with them in low, concerned tones and were joined by Madam Pomfrey.

"I'll do what I can, but there will be scarring," Poppy said gravely.

"Why would she do such a thing?" Mrs. Stanley sobbed.

Sprout put a comforting arm around her shoulders. "Veronica has been rather distracted lately—grades slipping; perhaps because of a boy? Nothing can upset a young girl like a case of puppy love gone sour. I should have told you, but I had no idea it would come to this."

A few moments later, Professor Balin entered and approached them. 

Grown-up Veronica whispered in Snape's ear. "Watch Dumbledore."

When little Veronica saw Balin, she stiffened with fear, but the other adults didn't notice—_except for Dumbledore_.

"When she didn't show up for my class," Professor Balin told her parents, "I was concerned, but it never occurred to me she would cut herself. Very unlike her. She's one of my best students."

Sprout, Poppy and the Stanleys continued to fret and wring their hands as Balin drifted over to young Veronica.

As Balin took the chair next to the girl's bed, the Headmaster watched him furtively. Snape, in turn, watched the only man he'd ever really trusted in disbelief. _Did Dumbledore know what was going on and do nothing to stop it? _

Balin was speaking to little Veronica with an even expression on his face, but so softly Snape had move closer to hear. 

"…stupid, _stupid _girl! Did they see it?"

Snape assumed 'it' was the Dark Mark burned on her chest. 

She shook her head.

An almost imperceptible expression of relief crossed Balin's face. "Try something like this again," he glanced at her parents and smiled unpleasantly, "and I'll kill your entire family."

"I think you get the point," Professor Stanley said as she brought them back to her office in the present. "Dumbledore knew. I was never quite sure, but now I know he did."

"There has to be a logical explanation," Snape said, his faith in the old wizard visibly shaken.

Veronica rubbed her forehead with fatigue. "Perhaps there is one, but I have a sneaking suspicion it's one of those 'certain sacrifices have to be made for the good of the wizarding community' explanations, and frankly, I'm not in the mood to hear it right now."

She may not be in the mood, but as soon as Snape was done here, he'd find out for himself just what Dumbledore's reasons were_. He couldn't have known how bad it was_.

"It went on for another two months after that," Veronica continued, "but when I came back to school after the Christmas holiday, Balin was gone. Professor Oliver was teaching the class. He wouldn't tell us much, just that Balin was never coming back. It was years later after I started working for the Institute and had access to Ministry records that I found out he'd been arrested and thrown into Azkaban for life, but your name wasn't mentioned."

"I was working as a spy at the time," Snape explained, "but you already know that. Even Balin doesn't know I was responsible."

"When I read Moody's report, I knew you were the one who delivered me. I can only imagine how much you regret your involvement with the Death Eaters, but as far as I'm concerned you were right where you needed to be. I know it sounds selfish…I have no idea how I survived it so long, but one more week and I think I would have jumped from Hufflepuff Tower no matter what the consequences." She gazed up at him with that look of profound gratefulness. "Thank you for making it stop."

Severus cleared his throat and looked away. He felt more than a little embarrassed, but he also felt something he never had before—proud. He turned back to Veronica and met her eyes. The innocence might be gone, but the hope and the faith were still there. "At least Balin didn't succeed."

"Didn't he? Maybe not his primary goal, but he did accomplish two things: he made damned sure no decent wizard would ever want to touch me." She indicated the Mark on her chest. "And that I wouldn't ever want to be..." Veronica turned away, regarded the still Pensieve and sighed. "What do I do with it now?"

"Destroy it," Snape replied. "Put all the memories of his—evil in there and destroy it. I know that won't obliterate the memories from your mind, but it will blur them. They'll just seem like a bad dream."

"How do you know that?"

"A few Death Eaters I used to know tried to erase the memories of their evil deeds by putting them in a Pensieve and destroying it. It didn't work the way they had hoped, but I thought it might help in your case."

"You'd better be careful," Veronica said with a smile. "If you're any nicer to me, you might drop dead of a stroke or something."

He scowled. "I believe I've burst several blood vessels already today, so if you don't mind getting on with it…"

"Now, that's more like it." Her expression turned serious as she—with a shaking hand— proceeded to remove every ghastly memory of her four-month ordeal from her mind and put them in the Pensieve. 

As the memories swirled inside the stone basin, Severus caught glimpses of the crimes Veronica had endured, when finally he had to turn away in revulsion. Her office was ill-equipped for the task of destroying the basin and its contents, so they carried the Pensieve to Snape's dungeon laboratory. Fortunately it was dinner-time, so the castle's other inhabitants were busy eating in the Great Hall. Veronica offered to get some food from the kitchen, but neither she nor Severus had much of an appetite. As soon as the Pensieve and her memories were vaporized, Snape gave Veronica a dose of Dreamless Draught and escorted her to her room. Then he marched to Dumbledore's office. He met the Headmaster just as he was returning from dinner.

"How is she?" Dumbledore asked, as he settled himself behind his desk.

"She'll recover," Severus snapped, "no thanks to you." The younger man regretted his words as soon as he uttered them. "I'm sorry, but you knew what was happening to her, at least by the time of her suicide attempt, and you let it go on for another two months!"

"It's true," Dumbledore admitted. "I suspected something was going on, but I had no idea he had burned the Mark into her."

The horrific images Snape had witnessed floated through his mind. "That wasn't the worst of it."

"You must understand, Severus, I couldn't have Balin arrested on school grounds and risk the lives of dozens—perhaps hundreds—of other children. He was powerful enough to bring down one of the castle towers if provoked. I couldn't take that chance." 

"So you decided to let him amuse himself with her while you bided your time, waiting for the right moment?"

Dumbledore sighed heavily, suddenly looking very old. "As you well know, we are often called upon to do unpleasant things for the good of the whole. I had faith she would survive."

"I can't help but wonder if you would have dealt with the situation with more alacrity if the victim had been one of your precious Gryffindors." Snape then turned on his heel and made to leave, but Dumbledore called after him.

"Perhaps this isn't the best moment to point this out, Severus, but in all the times you've come to my office to complain about something, this is the first time you've done it for purely unselfish reasons." The old wizard smiled. "Good always comes out of the ashes of evil."

*

As soon as Severus left his office, Dumbledore went to the glass case and pulled out his own Pensieve. He swirled the basin until the memory he was looking for came to the surface… 

A handful of top Ministry officials and a younger version of himself sat in the cold dungeon room as Rupert Balin was being led in, flanked by two dementors. They were not gathered for a trial, they were here for an execution—of sorts. Balin was about to receive the Dementor's Kiss. Unlike every other Death Eater who had received this unspeakable punishment, Balin grinned rakishly as the dementors sat him down and chained him to the chair as if he were attending a bon voyage party rather than his own soul execution.

The officious and zealous Barty Crouch rose and began to speak. "You, Rupert Balin, have been found guilty of crimes against humanity. Before your sentence is carried out do you have anything to say?"

Balin laughed. "Well, it's been jolly good fun and if I had to do it all over again I wouldn't change a thing." Those gathered were shocked by his cavalier comment. "You're all so self-righteous, but secretly you envy us. We get to do the things you wish you could do—the things hidden in the dark parts of your cowardly souls. Just one more thing before I go." Balin looked directly at Dumbledore. "I wanted to say a very special thank you to my dear friend Albus Dumbledore for supplying me with all those luscious little Slytherin girls over the years—so obliging, so eager to please. But surely the most delectable morsel was that little Hufflepuff. Destroying her was the most fun I've had in ages. I'm just sorry I didn't get to finish the job."

The present-day Dumbledore watched his past self reach for his wand in his voluminous sleeve, but stop. He had come very close to using the Killing Curse on Balin that day. It almost would have been worth a life's sentence in Azkaban to rid the world once and for all of that human monster.

Balin invited the dementor to come closer with no hint of fear on his face, just that same infuriating grin. The old wizard wished he could say Balin was insane, but he wasn't. The most dangerous Dark wizard next to Voldemort was as sane as Dumbledore. It had taken the Headmaster years to discover Balin's true nature; his kind were so good at hiding it. The Dark wizard had been born without a soul—one of a thankfully rare breed of human being. Muggles were occasionally plagued by these creatures as well and spoke of them in their science called Psychology. They used inadequate terms like 'psychopath' and 'antisocial personality disorder' to explain the phenomenon that was disastrous enough in a Muggle, but cataclysmic in a wizard.

When the dementor went to collect its Kiss, Dumbledore was horrified, but not surprised when the rotting creature that fed on human emotion recoiled from Balin. How could the dementor take something Balin didn't possess? Veronica might fault Dumbledore for his inaction, but the sweet, soulful Hufflepuff didn't understand how much worse it could have been. She would never know how much of his own strength the Headmaster had magically sent her during her ordeal so that she could endure. It was better for her to think she had survived it on her own.

***


	5. Complications

****

Chapter Five: Complications

Severus awoke at five the next morning wishing he had had taken a dose of Dreamless Draught himself. Not only had the old nightmares of his time as a Death Eater returned, the despicable images of Veronica's ordeal at the hands of his former professor haunted him as well. _And there are more nightmares yet to come._

Much to his irritation, he found himself wondering if Veronica had been able to sleep and thought he should go check on her. _This is ridiculous. She's a grown witch and a Dark Arts expert—she doesn't need me looking after her_. But she was also his friend and after yesterday he found himself feeling more than a little protective of her. He had to be careful not to publicly appear to like her though, especially after his meeting with her and Malfoy yesterday. He had no doubt Malfoy had indeed complained to his father about Veronica and would probably try to make trouble for her. Even as he dressed and made his way to her room, he forced himself to put such concerns out of his mind. He had a duty—a debt he could never hope to repay. That took precedence over everything, even friends. Since Dumbledore was his only other friend, the issue had never come up before. 

He knocked softly on her door, hoping she wouldn't answer, but a few seconds later, Veronica appeared. She was wearing a bath cap over her hair, and had on the strangest pajamas he'd ever seen: blue flannel covered with big yellow ducks in pointed green wizard hats. _Does this woman own any normal clothes?_ He suspected she had been up for some time as well. Her eyes were puffy and red from crying.

"So," he said awkwardly, "how are you?"

"Fine," she replied too quickly.

He could have let her answer stand and been free of any further obligation, but for some incomprehensible reason he didn't. "You are an extraordinarily bad liar."

"It depends on what I'm lying about." She opened her door all the way and gestured him in. "I'm afraid my memory isn't as blurred as I had hoped it would be. Destroying the Pensieve wasn't as effective as the Memory-Suppression Spells I had been using, but they weren't working very well lately either. I'll be all right, I just need some time."

After a few seconds of uncomfortable silence, Severus asked, "Your not, uh, thinking about… hurting yourself, are you?"

Veronica sighed heavily. "Do you want to know the main reason why I've never told anyone before yesterday? It isn't because I thought I would be rejected, it's because I knew my friends and family would treat me like you're treating me now—like I'm a broken doll who's been put back together again, but still isn't quite right."

He folded his arms across his chest in annoyance. "So how, exactly, would you like me to treat you?"

"I don't know." She shrugged. "Just be yourself."

"I thought you didn't like me being myself," he said through clenched teeth.

"What I didn't like was when you bullied children who couldn't defend themselves. In the few months that we've known each other, haven't I been able to hold my own against you in an argument?"

"More than adequately."

"Well, there you are." She smiled. "Be as nasty to me as you like."

Snape was quite happy that he wouldn't have to tread softly around her anymore. He tried to think of something to be angry about, but couldn't think of anything in particular at the moment. 

Veronica then shooed him out, but as she opened her door, the door next to hers—Professor Sprout's—opened. The three of them stared at each other for a moment. Snape groaned inwardly as he saw Sprout's eyes narrow. The Herbology professor looked past Snape and regarded her former student with deep disappointment and incredulity. "Oh, Veronica!" She shoved her patched pointed hat on her flyaway hair and scuttled away in agitation.

As soon as Sprout was out of sight, Veronica burst out laughing. "Tell me, Severus, what attracted you first? Was it the bath cap or the ducky pj's?"

He wanted to scowl, but couldn't help snickering. 

Veronica clutched her heart. "Great goddess in heaven, you laughed!"

"You are mildly amusing on occasion," he said, trying to regain his perpetual sneer. "You don't think she'll say anything to anyone else, do you?"

"Professor Sprout?" She waved away his concern. "No! I think she'd rather stick railroad spike in ear than broadcast that one of her Hufflepuffs was carrying on with—" 

Snape glared at her. "Why do I get the feeling you're just about to insult me? Tell me, Veronica, what attracted you first? The big nose or the greasy hair?"

Trying not to laugh even harder, she pulled him back into her room and shut the door. "I was going to say that she wouldn't want anyone thinking one of her Hufflepuffs was carrying on with a Slytherin—_any_ Slytherin. I had no intention of saying anything about your hair. But now that you mention it…" Veronica reached up to touch one of his oily locks, but hesitated. "Why exactly does it look like—that?"

"It's all part of the broody and tortured ensemble," he replied.

"I'm afraid I don't quite understand."

"It's the Macassar oil I put in it every morning. If I don't my hair looks like, well, yours."

Veronica touched the bath cap covering her long, curly hair self-consciously. "What's wrong with my hair?"

"Nothing. It's just…big."

She tried to look offended, but had to agree. "Well, at the risk of sounding like an advert, I have just the thing." She darted into her bathroom and emerged with a bottle in her hand which she gave to him. 

Severus read the label. "Sleekeazy's Hair Potion?"

"I don't use it but once a year, it's such a bother; but for you I can't imagine it would be any more trouble than putting in that—what did you call it?"

"Macassar oil." He regarded the bottle skeptically. "So, I just put this on my hair?"

"Well, you got to wash that stuff out of it first. Come on." She took him by the hand and led him into her bathroom. She dragged a chair in front of the sink and made him sit, then tied a towel around his neck.

For a small woman, she was certainly able to push him around well enough. Now that he knew so much about her past, she was starting to make sense to him. She had a vexing tendency to take control of a situation—always in an irritatingly cheerful way. Now he knew it was just her way of compensating for the control of her life and body Balin had ripped from her years ago. _We all have our protections, don't we?_

"So, what did he say when you talked to him last night?" Veronica asked as she scrubbed the oil out of his hair—a little more briskly than she needed to, he thought. 

It took Severus a second to figure out who 'he' was: Dumbledore. He sighed. "He said just what you thought he'd say, but I'm sure there's more to it than that." _There has to be_. "I understand why you may resent him, but it sort of puts me in a awkward spot. Please don't—"

"Put you in the middle? I won't, I promise. I'll not mention it again."

He was going to say, _don't make me choose between my two only friends_, but felt her promise served well enough. 

He tried to look in the mirror several times while she was fussing with his hair, but she wouldn't let him peak until she was finished. Finally, she removed the towel from around his neck and turned him around. "Bloody hell," he breathed. For the first time in his life, his shoulder length black hair was smooth and mostly straight with just the slightest hint of a wave at the ends without being greasy at all. 

"You're a miracle worker, dear," said the mirror to Veronica.

Snape silently agreed. He took the bottle of Sleekeazy's Hair Potion in his hand. _Where have you been all my life?_ "Do you women enjoy hiding these little secrets from us men?"

"Don't blame us. It's not our fault you're too proud and stupid to ask for our help. You take that bottle with you and I'll pick you up some more when I go to Diagon Alley tomorrow to get Malfoy's wand fixed."

"I really wish you would let me help you pay for it," he said.

"There you go being nice to me again." She shook her head. "As much as I hate to admit it, you were right; I shouldn't have broken his wand. I'll take care of it." She combed his hair through one last time then patted him on the shoulders. "There. You're ready for the cover of _Witch Weekly_." 

"Now, I wouldn't go _that_ far," said the mirror.

He felt his cheeks burn.

"Just ignore it," Veronica said, "you look great."

Severus couldn't help wondering if his appearance was one of those things she was able to lie well about, but decided not to inquire further. "Thank you."

Veronica beamed. "What are friends for?"

*

After she finished with Severus, Veronica managed to get ready and arrive at the Great Hall for breakfast with a few minutes to spare. She pulled Professor Sprout aside and explained, "Nothing happened between us, I swear. We're just mates. I just did his hair for pity's sake—"

Sprout took a step back. "You _touched _his hair?!"

"And lived," Veronica replied, smiling mischievously. "But you mustn't say anything." Sprout looked at her quizzically, so she quickly added, "You know how people are; they'll jump to all sorts of silly conclusions."

Sprout looked relieved to not have to mention it again. "Don't worry, dear, my lips are sealed."

As Veronica took her seat at the staff table, Dumbledore caught her eye; he looked almost apologetic. "You're looking well this morning."

Angry as she still was, she could never bring herself to be rude to him. His position alone commanded her respect. She managed to mumble, "Thank you, sir," before she looked away. _Only one more term and I'll never have to see him or Hogwarts ever again_. She picked at her eggs, still not having much of an appetite for the pain in her heart and the lump in the pit of her stomach. She sincerely hoped that time would indeed heal this wound now that it was finally lanced.

Her mood lightened considerably while during breakfast, Veronica caught snatches of conversations regarding the transformation of Severus' hair. He must have heard them too, because he was making an extra effort to hide behind his _Daily Prophet_. Veronica was finally beginning to understand that his disagreeable disposition was—at least in part—his way of covering for his painful shyness and insecurity. Even though he looked infinitely better after she'd fixed his hair, she almost wished she hadn't. He seemed so uncomfortable with the attention. _Oh well, it's bound to die down in a few days._

Her thoughts then drifted to the other possible reason for his behavior as she reviewed the conversation they had in the Headmaster's office yesterday. It was the first time Veronica had to really think about it since she relived her traumatic past.

__

"…he is once again infiltrating the Death Eaters in order to gain information so we can fight Voldemort…"

Most people would have a only a vague notion of what that meant for him. Veronica was not most people. She knew exactly what Severus would be forced to do; what he would have to sacrifice for the good of the wizarding community. The worst part was that she couldn't even show her support for him publicly. No one could know they were friends. _Except for Professor Sprout, of course_. She winced, but couldn't think of anything else that she could have told her old Head of House to explain why Severus was leaving her room at dawn. _I think I need to work on becoming a better liar._

*

The next day was Saturday, and even though Veronica had to spend her day off getting Malfoy's wand fixed, she was almost grateful for the distraction from the dark thoughts that refused to leave her mind. Wrapped in a warm, dark cloak covering her bright yellow robes, she trudged through the snow-covered grounds, beyond the school gates and the Apparition barrier. She Disapparated and reappeared in a deserted narrow street in London, then made her way to the Leaky Cauldron and onto Diagon Alley. The place was more packed than usual due to the influx of holiday shoppers. Enchanted Christmas decorations adorned every shop.

Veronica figured it best to get the bad news over with quickly, so without so much as a peek into any of the other wonderful shops, she marched straight to Ollivander's. The old wand maker was quite upset over the condition of Malfoy's wand until he found out why she broke it. Then he told her he would charge her only a fraction of what he should for the repair and gave Veronica's wand a reconditioning gratis (she still had the same six-inch willow, dragon heartstring she had when she first went to Hogwarts as a young girl). 

Despite Mr. Ollivander's generosity, the cost of repairs would still eat well into her broom fund. On her way to and from Gringotts, she went to Quality Quidditch Supplies to admire all the lovely brooms. The Bluebottle Compact Turbo was the one she wanted. It wasn't a Quidditch-quality broom, but all she really needed it for was reliable transportation. Certainly, she could Apparate as well as the next witch, but there was something about flying…she sighed. As reasonably priced as the Bluebottle was, it would still be several months before she could afford it.

Instead of going back to Hogwarts and returning later for the wand, she told Mr. Ollivander she'd be waiting at the Leaky Cauldron (after she'd picked up several bottles of Sleekeazy's Hair Potion for Severus). She sat down with a pint of ale and the latest issues of the prestigious _Journal of Magic_ and the not-so-prestigious _Witch Weekly_. 

She put the _Journal of Magic_ aside and picked up _Witch Weekly_. She knew it was rubbish, but a little mindless reading was just what she needed right now. There was an almost pretty wizard on the cover, someone named Reginald Ridefort—"but _you _can call me Reggie!" (or so the quote at the bottom of his picture proclaimed). Reggie was apparently this year's recipient of the Most-Charming-Smile Award. His teeth sparkled as he turned his head slightly in order to catch the light. _Well, at least it isn't Gilderoy Lockhart_. Veronica had had the dubious honor of meeting him several years ago at a dinner given by the Dark Force Defense League. Lockhart had told her she would go so much farther in the world of Dark Arts research if she would just do something about her hair. _And a little make-up wouldn't hurt either, dear heart_. Stupid twit.

As Veronica was momentarily blinded by Reggie's brilliant smile, she thought of what she had told Severus yesterday about him being ready for the cover of _Witch Weekly_. If they had a competition for Best Sneer, he'd be a shoe-in. All she knew was that she would rather be looking at him sneering at her than this phony git. She giggled as she imagined Severus ("but _you _can call me Sev!") doing adverts for Sleekeazy's For Wizards. She hadn't even registered the fact that she was blushing when she heard:

"Professor Stanley, I presume?"

Veronica looked up and saw a pale, blond man with a pointed face, his expression dripping with disdain. His striking resemblance to a ferret positively revealed his identity: "Mr. Malfoy." She tried to smile pleasantly, but it came out as a look of mild nausea. "How did you know I was here?"

"I just came from Ollivander's to check on the status of my son's wand. He informed me that you only just dropped it off to be repaired an hour ago." Lucius Malfoy glanced at her copy of _Witch Weekl_y and smirked condescendingly. "Please, don't let me interrupt." 

Sheepishly, she put the magazine aside._ Naturally, I couldn't have been reading the_ Journal of Magic_. _As politely as she could, Veronica offered him a chair at her table. Malfoy looked at the old wooden chair as if it had a pile of sheep dung on it. He forced himself to sit, drawing his fine cloak of dark green velvet around him so it wouldn't touch the floor of the shabby pub. 

"I would have tended to the wand sooner," she explained, "but I do have classes to teach. This is the first day I've had free." 

"And in the meantime, my son's studies suffer because of you histrionics," Malfoy retorted. "All because of a silly frog."

"Did your son tell you that he and his little friends were in fact torturing that frog with a curse he certainly didn't learn from me?"

"Professor Snape informed me of your ridiculous accusations." Malfoy waved his hand regally. "So what if they were _teasing_ a frog? After all, boys will be boys."

"Mr. Malfoy," Veronica began, trying to keep her tone even, "I have three older brothers and never have any one of them tortured an animal."

"All Hufflepuffs, I imagine," he said scornfully. "Perhaps I should have said, _spirited_ boys will be boys." 

He was obviously trying to bait her, but she was determined not to give him the satisfaction. Veronica took a sip of her ale and wished it was Firewhiskey. _It will be as soon as this great prat leaves._

"My son has been telling me all about your questionable teaching methods," Malfoy continued. "Abandoning tried and true defense techniques for your pet theories; teaching near-Squibs to use magic against one of Hogwarts' finest professors. I have registered my displeasure with the Headmaster and so have several other distinguished alumni. Don't be surprised if you soon find yourself out of a situation." 

To Malfoy's obvious indignation, Veronica laughed. "Hey, Tom!"

"Yes, Professor?" replied Tom, the innkeeper.  


"You wouldn't be needing a barmaid now, would you? It seems Mr. Malfoy here is going to have me sacked so I suppose I'll be needing another job."

Tom snickered, but looked away nervously when Lucius glared at him. Malfoy then turned angrily back to Veronica. "How dare you mock me!"

Still grinning, she casually took another sip of her drink. "I'm sorry, but you have the misfortune of catching me on a day where I don't give a rat's backside for my position at Hogwarts."

He pointed an irate finger at her. "You may not care for your position at Hogwarts, but I suspect you do care for your position at the Mandragora Institute for Magical Research. You are obviously unaware of the fact that I am one of the Institute's major contributors."

Veronica's look of amusement quickly faded. Malfoy was right, her research was very important to her, but she would rather have to beg for a living than plead for her job from this bastard who had 'Death Eater' written all over him. "You know, I would love to continue chatting with you all day," she said as she once again picked up her _Witch Weekly_, "but I hear there's this really corking article on making imitation fairy lights from old toilet paper rolls that I simply _must_ read. It's been a pleasure." With a smile and a flourish she flipped opened up her magazine. 

Apparently, Lucius Malfoy was not in the habit of being summarily dismissed, so he stood staring at Veronica, speechless, for a moment. He glared at the chuckling patrons sitting nearby who seemed to find his public humiliation entertaining, then stormed out of the pub.

As soon as he was gone, Veronica breathed a sigh of relief. "Might I have a Firewhiskey, Tom?" 

The innkeeper brought her the drink and said, "It's on the house." Tom then leaned closer to her and whispered, "But you really shouldn't have done that."

*

"You really, _really_ shouldn't have done that. He's a Death Eater," Severus told her that evening in his dungeon office after Veronica had related her encounter with Lucius Malfoy. 

"I figured as much." She snorted. "He isn't even close to being in Balin's league, he doesn't frighten me."

"Perhaps not, but he will do his best to make good on his threat. The Institute is entirely dependent upon private funding, is it not?"

With a heavy sigh, she nodded. "I'm sorry, but I couldn't help it. He just made me so damned angry."

"That's perfectly all right, Veronica," Severus said wryly, "you were just being yourself. If you had managed to hold your tongue, you probably would have spontaneously combusted."

She laughed. The corners of his mouth curled in a grin. She had a nice laugh.

"Not that it will make you feel any better," he continued, "but I imagine your position at Hogwarts is safe." Severus doubted Dumbledore would consider sacking her, no matter what Malfoy or his cronies wanted. She was the best Defense Against the Dark Arts professor they've had in recent memory—at least in Snape's opinion (though he would never _tell_ her so). "Besides, I suspect we'll be needing your expertise as Voldemort becomes more powerful." He suddenly got a haunted look in his eyes. "I have a feeling the death raids will be starting in earnest soon." 

"While we're on the subject of Voldemort…" she trailed off.

"What about him?"

Veronica hesitated. "Exactly how far have you infiltrated his inner circle?"

"Not very," Severus replied vaguely. "He still doesn't trust me."

"But you're working on it?" The concern in her voice was unmistakable.

"As I said the other day, I do what I have to do." 

"Have you killed yet?" she asked, locking eyes with him.

Severus quickly looked away. "Veronica, it isn't that I don't trust you, but I just can't have this conversation. If you really are my friend, you'll let me do what I must."

"Of course," she said unhappily. "After all, it is for the good of the wizarding community."

*

Monday morning, Snape sat at the staff table reading the _Daily Prophet_ as was his habit; not only to catch up on the latest news, but to save himself from having to speak to anyone. There was nothing worse than having to make small talk first thing in the morning. In order to prolong his daily ritual, he even read the gossip column. What he saw there today made him choke on his tea: 

**__**

Malfoy vs. Hogwarts Professor

Patrons at the Leaky Cauldron were treated to some unexpected entertainment this past Saturday when they overheard wealthy philanthropist, Lucius Malfoy getting an earful from Hogwarts' plucky Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Veruca Stanley. Stanley, the first witch to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts in almost a century, took Malfoy to task regarding the behavior of his son, Draco, who has been engaged in questionable activities at the famous school of magic. When asked about the incident, Mr. Malfoy refused comment. Perhaps the wizarding world's most generous citizen should spend less time at benefit dinners and more quality time with his troubled son.

He stole a glance at Veronica and assumed she had seen it too; the color had drained from her face. He then turned his attention to the Slytherin table and saw Draco Malfoy—his face red as much from embarrassment as from anger—mouthing obscenities. 

When Severus spoke to Veronica later that day she tried to laugh it off, "They could have at least gotten my name right." But the next day at breakfast when her notice came releasing her from her position at the Institute, he saw her blinking back tears of frustration and disbelief. Even after everything she had been through, she still seemed to expect the best from people and was deeply disappointed when she got the worst. A Hufflepuff to the last.

*

In the days leading up to the Quidditch match between Slytherin and Gryffindor, Snape couldn't help but notice Draco Malfoy's attitude deteriorate even further. If the boy had disliked Professor Stanley before, he absolutely despised her now. Not only did he have to serve out his detention for the frog incident, he was—for the first time in his privileged life—the object of ridicule. Snape had no doubt Draco would physically harm Veronica if given half the chance. The boy was stupidly vocal about his feelings to his fellow Slytherins. He even let a few thinly veiled threats slip within Snape's earshot during Potions class, thinking his Head of House would approve.

Snape's life had indeed taking a strange turn. Not so long ago, he would have gladly leapt at the opportunity to strangle Veronica with his bare hands. Now here he was, walking on eggshells in his own classroom for fear of being hit by her Anti-Bully Charm, and at the same time barely suppressing the desire to box Malfoy's ears for threatening her. In other words, his friendship with Veronica was quickly becoming a liability he couldn't afford if he hoped to fulfill his obligation to Dumbledore in the fight against Voldemort.

On the day of the match, Severus visited Veronica in her office.

"I think it would be best if you resign at the end of the term," he told her bluntly.

Veronica regarded him with surprise. "Best for whom?"

"It's for your own safety. Malfoy has been spouting off about how he plans to 'take care' of you." 

"Don't insult my intelligence, Severus," she said. "I know you don't believe that I can't handle myself against anything a fifteen-year-old boy could throw at me. What's this really about?"

"I cannot afford the luxury of friendship," he said in a formal, almost cold, tone of voice. "Ever since you showed me what happened to you and told me I was responsible for making Balin's abuse stop, I've felt obligated to continue to protect you. I can't be a spy and worry about you at the same time."

"I don't need you to protect me! I do need—I would like for you to be my friend. But if it doesn't fit into your spying activities," she said with a sarcastic edge to her voice, obviously hurt by what he said. "We're not friends, we're not enemies, we're just two people occupying the same general area. You stay out of my way and I'll stay out of yours for the remainder of my time here."

"So you refuse to resign?"

"Unless you've suddenly become Headmaster, you can't ask it of me. I gave my word I would stay until the end of next term, so until Dumbledore sacks me I'm afraid you're stuck with me." Veronica marched to the door and threw it open. "Now, if you'll be so kind as to leave my office."

"I'm sorry if this hurts you," he said, trying not to seem like he was sorry at all, "but I'm only trying to do what's best for all concerned."

He left her to take his place at the match. Veronica arrived a short time later and sat in the upper Hufflepuff box with Professor Sprout across the pitch from where Snape was sitting. 

The match began and it wasn't long before the team Seekers spotted the Snitch. Potter, Gryffindor's Seeker, was focused and lightening-quick. Malfoy, on the other hand had let his anger take control of his game; he and his team suffered for it. In his pursuit of the Golden Snitch, Malfoy took the opportunity to fly dangerously close to the audience. As he passed over the Hufflepuff box, Veronica ducked just in time before the tail of his broom smashed her in the face. 

Severus just sat there, deadpan, so wanting to knock the little bastard off his broom, but bound by his duty not to interfere. Slytherin received a penalty for his foul, but it hardly seemed adequate punishment. Malfoy could have killed her. _Not to worry_, he told himself, _a few weeks of practiced cool indifference will kill any feelings of friendship I ever felt for her._ _Soon I won't care what happens to her._

It was a surprise to no one, except perhaps Malfoy, when Potter caught the Golden Snitch and won the match. Afterward, Draco threw a tantrum, unwilling to be consoled by Miss Parkinson or flattered by his thugs, Crabbe and Goyle. Snape then watched the boy leave the pitch alone, no doubt in his mind that Draco was headed straight for Veronica's office. Severus remained sitting in the stands.

In order to perform the various parts he had been forced to play throughout his life, Severus had made it a policy not to listen to the dictates of his heart. Much better to follow the intellect, it was so much more reliable than emotion. But sometimes the heart demanded he listen, and invariably it told him to do something silly and insignificant. Right now it was telling him to look at what was happening on the ground of the pitch.

He glanced over at the Gryffindor team and saw Potter being patted on the back by his teammates. Then he was rushed by his partners in crime, Weasley and Granger. Snape watched Granger give Potter a platonic squeeze.

Severus found himself wondering what Potter and his sidekick, Weasley, would do if it was Miss Granger in peril (not that Veronica was in any, he reminded himself quickly). He snorted. The glory-hungry boys would do something stupid and reckless, heedless of any consequences. That was the danger of listening to the heart. Severus had often thought about how there might come a time when Potter will be forced to choose between his friends and the good of the whole. He had no doubt the selfish boy would choose his friends. Dumbledore had told him long ago that if forced to choose between saving Snape's life and jeopardizing the fight against Voldemort, the old wizard would sacrifice him without reservation. Severus had never disputed the logic or necessity of that stance. 

Then, it suddenly dawned on him why it was he felt he had to reject Veronica's friendship. It wasn't because of how he felt about her, but how he knew Veronica felt about him—at least up until a few hours ago. She would never allow him to be sacrificed for the good of the whole and he had no doubt that she would have laid down her life for him with complete Hufflepuff loyalty. A unique situation for Severus. He had never known anyone willing to sacrifice themselves for him—even his own parents he hadn't been sure of. He would like to believe that his own mother would have died for him as Lily Potter had done for Harry, but Severus had grave doubts. _Good thing it never came up_. He knew in his heart Veronica would sacrifice herself for him—or for any friend—without question. Severus sincerely wished his heart would just shut up.

With a heavy sigh, he rose and made his way toward Veronica's office.

*

As Veronica sat behind her desk, she didn't need Sybil Trelawney's crystal ball to know Draco Malfoy was on his way to her office to 'take care' of her once and for all. Veronica wasn't particularly worried. She had developed a simple Stunning Spell that could be performed without a wand—it was easily blocked if one expected it, but Draco wouldn't be expecting it. She'd stun him before things got out of hand and Lucius Malfoy would be demanding her head on a plate by morning. She breathed a half-hearted sigh.

Perhaps she should resign and make both Lucius Malfoy and Severus happy, not that she had any place to go. _Well, there's always Dad's curio shop_. Strictly speaking, her father's Manchester business was a wizard junk shop, but he thought 'curio shop' sounded more upscale. He had been so proud when Veronica had been asked to work for the Institute, but prouder still when his little girl became a Hogwarts professor. 

Veronica knew there was no way to salvage her position at the Institute. The Director had made it clear she was persona non grata. She wasn't even supposed to communicate with her former colleagues 'due to the sensitive nature of the Institute's research'. Win, Graham and Nigel had immediately sent her a sympathy owl in defiance of the Director's decree. They had planned to protest her firing, but Veronica wouldn't let them risk their positions. Researchers were expendable, Lucius Malfoy's money was not. 

As much as the loss of her position hurt, Severus' behavior hurt worse. She had lots of friends—good friends. What did she need Severus for anyway? Veronica knew why. She had bared her soul to him in a way she had never done to anyone before. She trusted him and, in a way, he had betrayed her. She was saved from wallowing in self-pity any further when Draco threw open the door of her office.

"Hello, Mr. Malfoy," she said calmly. "Where's your entourage?" 

"This is between you and me," Draco told her in his most dangerous tone. 

"I see. Come to try to kill me again?" Veronica wagged a finger at him. "That wasn't very smart attempting murder in front of a thousand witnesses. Not exactly the perfect crime." 

"That was an accident," he said, knowing full well that she didn't believe it any more than he did. "I wouldn't waste my time on a working class bitch who doesn't know her place. You're not worth it. Besides, there are other ways of dealing with the likes of you. You may think your job here is safe, but Father will have you sacked if it's the last thing he does. Then he'll make sure no one will hire you." Draco put his hands on her desk and leaned over in his most threatening posture. "And when you do get out of here I suggest you watch your back." 

__

Speaking of watching your back…Veronica looked past Draco and saw a figure clad in black that could only be Severus standing in the doorway. She could have sworn he winked at her. 

"Mr. Malfoy, come with me," he said firmly.

Draco spun around, more than a little surprised to see his Head of House standing there. He put on his most innocent expression. "Professor Stanley and I were just—"

Snape towered over Draco, as menacing as Veronica had ever seen him. "I said, come with me—_now_. Don't make me repeat myself again, boy."

As soon as the pair was gone, Veronica smiled, happier than she had been in ages. _I guess this means we're friends again_.

*

Instead of taking the boy to his dungeon office, Snape made a detour into the empty Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. Somehow, it seemed appropriate to have his little chat with Malfoy in here.

Draco looked confused, but even he was too frightened of his Potions professor to question why they were in here. Snape just stared him down making Malfoy as uncomfortable as Snape's old Head of House had made him on occasion.

"I wasn't going to hurt her," Draco said, chuckling nervously. "I just wanted to scare her."

Like a shot, Snape grabbed Malfoy by the front of his Quidditch robes and slammed the boy against the wall of the classroom—just hard enough to make an impression. He kept a hold of Draco, his face an inch from the boy's. "I'll say this only once," Snape hissed ominously. "_Leave her alone_! I hear everything; I see everything. If you so much as look at her the wrong way, you will _sincerely_ wish you hadn't. Have I made myself clear?"

Draco nodded his head vigorously. "Y-yes, Sir."

Snape lips curled in an evil grin as he let go of the trembling boy. "That's a good lad."

"I-I don't understand," Draco stammered. "How can you care for her? She's not even pretty."

Though Veronica was no great beauty, she had pleasant features and there was a definite charm about her that was bound to be lost on Malfoy. It certainly wasn't necessary for the boy to understand it now. Careful not to let any gentler feelings for Veronica show through, Snape laughed. "Who said I cared for her? She has her uses. And when she ceases to be useful, I will deal with her, no one else. Be sure to tell your father what I've told you."

Draco nodded again, fear battling with mystification. Snape then dismissed the boy and went back to Veronica's office.

"What did you do?" she asked impatiently.

Severus shrugged. "I just told him to leave you alone. Very firmly."

"But what about the spy thing?" Veronica tried to cover her obvious joy with concern. "Isn't he going to wonder why you took my part over his?

"Well, actually, he did ask me about that."

"And what did you tell him?"

"Well…"

She folded her arms across her chest and regarded him with suspicion. "Yes?" 

Severus grinned sheepishly. "I might have given him the impression that we were, uh, sleeping together."

Veronica rubbed her forehead as if in pain. Then she smacked him in the arm with the back of her hand.

"I couldn't tell him we were friends," he explained quickly, rubbing his arm. "I have to maintain the illusion of loyalty to Voldemort. Draco and his father would find it easier to accept you as my mistress." 

"Mistress?!" Veronica's irritation melted into laughter. "The whole school is going to know!"

"Well, look on the bright side," Severus told her. "At least now we can be seen together without anyone getting suspicious."

"Let me get this straight. We're going to let everyone think we're, um…lovers," she said, stumbling over the word. Because of her experience with Balin she had never had a lover. She must find it uncomfortable to use the word in reference to herself. "So that we can sneak around and be friends? That's a first."

"Welcome to the world of espionage," Severus said with a crafty smile.

***

To be continued...


	6. Christmas

****

Chapter Six: Christmas

As predicted, by Monday the rumor that Severus had started was all over the school. Due to the rush of final exams, he and Veronica had had no time to talk until after lunch as they walked to their afternoon classes. Because he was more than head taller than she was, Veronica had to march briskly just to keep up with his long strides.

"So, how's your day going, darling?" she teased. 

Severus snorted. "Besides the endless refrain of 'is that the best she could do?'—just dandy."

She bit the insides of her mouth to keep from giggling.

"Well," he continued, "I suppose it's an improvement over 'his nose is so big it could house a family of four'"

Veronica laughed out loud and incurred the stares of several students passing by. Instead of being annoyed, Severus actually seemed pleased. He had this way of smiling and sneering at the same time that most people found somewhat disconcerting, but Veronica had learned it was his way of showing amusement. In fact, she had a feeling he repeated the nose remark specifically to illicit a laugh. 

"What about you?" he asked.

She shrugged. "I'm afraid the Slytherins are a bit more direct with their opinions. It's nothing worth repeating." 

Severus steered Veronica into an empty hallway. "Is it Malfoy?"

"No, it isn't Malfoy," she replied. "Whatever you said to him the other day worked. He didn't even look at me in class today. Speaking of class, we're going to be late—" 

Severus refused to be put off. "I want to know what they're saying and who's saying it."

Veronica sighed. "Well, if you must know, they're calling me…'Huffle-slut'." She could see and almost feel the anger rising in him, so she quickly added, "It's just a stupid name, please don't—"

"Make a complete ass of myself again?" 

Veronica patted his arm soothingly. "Oh, I'm glad you made a complete ass of yourself the other day. It's healthy to do that every once in a while. Who knows, if you keep it up you may not die of that stroke before you're fifty."

Her comment had the desired effect—he smiled slightly. 

"Let this one go, Severus. They'll tire of it soon enough." 

He nodded reluctantly. "The only good thing about a rumor at Hogwarts is that another one is bound to come along to replace the old one."

*

"Such long faces," Veronica said as she entered her classroom to find her fifth-year Gryffindors looking particularly dour. "I promise the practical exam will be virtually painless, so cheer up for goodness sake."

Her light-hearted pronouncement did nothing to lift their spirits. She imagined that they would be as curious and bewildered as any of her other students at the talk of her relationship with Severus, but she had a bad feeling there was something more to their behavior than that. Veronica tried a different tact. "Rotten luck about the Cannon's, eh boys?" she said to Harry, Ron and Neville. "I thought for sure they'd beat the Wasps." She turned to Seamus and Dean. "But the Bats are brilliant this year, don't you think?" Harry, Ron, Seamus and Dean didn't say a word and wouldn't even look her in the eye. Poor Neville looked like he was on the verge of tears.

"All right," she said, "what's this nonsense all about?"

After a moment, Hermione broke the silence. "We heard a rumor, but considering the source—" she began, giving her friends Harry and Ron a disgusted look.

__

Great goddess, what is it now? "Go on, Miss Granger."

"The Slytherins are saying that you created a counterspell for the Anti-Bully Charm and gave it to Professor Snape so he can go back to yelling at students again, because you and he…" Hermione blushed. "Well, you know."

Veronica stood with her mouth open for a full ten seconds before finding her voice again. "I don't know what to say, but I suppose I'll start by telling you that it's a lie. There is no counterspell and there never will be a counterspell if I have anything to say about it." She paced in front of the class, both furious and hurt; furious with the Slytherins for making up such a story and hurt because the Gryffindors could believe she would do such a thing.

"Obviously, I've failed you this term," Veronica said sadly. "I may have been successful in teaching you the mechanics of Dark Arts defense, but that's only a part of it. Defense Against the Dark Arts is not just about spells used to repel an attack, it's a whole mindset. I had hoped that by my words and actions I would have conveyed my personal philosophy to you, but apparently I haven't made myself clear. When I took this position, I made a pledge to not only teach you how to protect yourselves, but to protect you myself. If I were to create a counterspell thereby allowing someone to hurt you, I would be breaking my pledge. I wouldn't be able to look at myself in the mirror."

Veronica sat on the edge of her desk, feeling more than a little weary. "When it comes right down to it, it's all about personal integrity. Many of you are probably starting to ask yourselves questions like: What do I believe in? What would I be willing to fight for—to die for? Well, I am here to fight for all of you. That is my primary concern and will be for as long as I am a Hogwarts professor." She scanned the room and met the eyes of every student. "Just so we're perfectly clear on this, I would never, _ever_ do anything to hurt any of you." 

All of the students nodded and appeared relieved, but Veronica couldn't help notice that Neville still looked crestfallen, so after class she called him aside for a private chat. The boy stood glumly by her desk and looked down at his feet.

"How's Trevor?" Veronica asked by way of breaking the tension. 

Neville shrugged. "Fine, I guess." Then he took his toad out of his pocket and handed him to her.

"He's looking well—which is more than I can say for you. What's wrong, Neville? Don't you believe that there's no counterspell?"

"I believe you, but I just don't get it." He managed to raise his head and look her in the eye. "How can you—like _him_?"

Suddenly it dawned on her why Neville looked so sad. He had a crush on her. Veronica took his hand and squeezed it reassuringly. "Just because I like him, doesn't mean I don't still like you. We were friends first, remember?"

Neville smiled shyly and blushed. "Well, I suppose it's all right if it means you'll stay on at Hogwarts after the end of next term."

"Just between you and me, I haven't made a decision yet, but circumstances have made it more likely that I will stay." She put a finger to her lips. "Keep it to yourself though, all right."

He nodded and smiled more broadly. Veronica gave him a big hug and sent him and Trevor on their way. During the term, she had learned of the terrible tragedy that had befallen Neville's mother and father and felt particularly protective of him. They had so much in common. They had both been deeply wounded by Death Eaters, but at least she still had her parents. She wouldn't let anyone hurt that sweet boy if her life depended on it. 

*

When Veronica entered the Great Hall for dinner that evening, she noticed that her usual place next to Professor Sprout was occupied by Professor Sinistra. That meant that the only available chair was the one next to Severus. Sinistra gave her a wink and a grin. Professor Sprout shrugged, looking resigned.

With a cluck of her tongue, Veronica sat next to Severus. She noticed the almost imperceptible curl of his mouth. 

"Sorry," he said softly, "this wasn't my idea."

A few seconds after she sat down, her plate was magically piled with broccoli, carrots, spinach and rice. She grabbed a large piece of brown bread and buttered it.

Severus, his plate filled with big slabs of meat with a couple of potatoes on the side, said, "Is that all you're eating?" 

Veronica held back a smile as she thought, _oh dear, here we go. _She nodded as she popped a broccoli spear in her mouth.

"But there's no meat," he said, as if she were unaware of that fact, "only vegetables."

"That's because I'm a vegetarian," she replied.

He rolled his eyes. "Don't tell me that on top of everything else, you're one of those tree-hugging loonies that thinks it's wrong to eat animals that are raised specifically for that purpose?"

"Plant are living things, too," Veronica replied. "We all have to kill to live. I just never much cared for the taste of meat, besides," she added in a speedy undertone, "vegetarianism is better for the environment."

"You _are_ one of them!" Severus pointed his knife at her accusingly.

She held up her hand, trying not to laugh out loud. "Just eat your dead animal carcass and leave my vegetables alone."

"No wonder you're no bigger than a minute. All those vegetables have stunted your growth. It's positively unnatural." He speared a dripping piece of roast beef off the platter on the table and plunked it on her plate. "Just eat it. That's what the gods made cows for in the first place."

"Do you mind?! Oh, look at that!" she cried in disgust. "You got cow's blood all over my carrots. Just for that…" Veronica scooped up a spoonful of chopped spinach off her plate and went to plop it on top of his roast beef. 

Amusement clearly showing through his irritation, Severus parried her spoon with his knife. "Don't even think about it, woman, or you'll be spending the rest of your life as a rabbit."

"Before the two of you start throwing food at each other, please be so good as to warn me so I can stay out of the line of fire," said a very annoyed Professor McGonagall, sitting on the other side of Veronica. "Honestly! The two of you are acting like a couple of silly third-years. I would appreciate the exercise of a little decorum at the staff table, if you don't mind."

Both Severus and Veronica mumbled, "Sorry, Minerva."

Veronica tried to look angry, but had to stifle a giggle. "Now you've gone and got me into trouble with the Deputy Headmistress," she whispered. "I'm not sitting next to you anymore."

Severus snickered into his pumpkin juice.

*

Neville Longbottom looked over at the staff table and sighed. "He better not hurt her, that's all I've got to say." He had only meant to think it, but he blurted it out loud instead. Not that it mattered; his fellow fifth-year Gryffindors had known about his crush on Professor Stanley almost before he did.

"No use torturing yourself, Neville. Besides, I think she's almost as old as my mother, and Mum's _ancient_," Ron said as he espied Snape and Stanley. He smiled at Neville encouragingly. "Look, they're arguing about something." Ron chuckled and glanced at Hermione. "They remind me of us."

Ginny Weasley giggled, Hermione blushed and Ron, after thinking about it a moment, suddenly became very interested in his potatoes.

"They're not arguing, not really," Hermione said. "See, she's smiling and I think he is too, but it's hard to tell."

"Looks to me like they're getting ready to have a food fight," said Harry.

Hermione grinned in a superior manner. "Well, I think they make an adorable couple."

All the boys made gagging noises and Neville shot daggers at her with his eyes. 

"Do you mind, Hermione?" Ron said in irritation. "We're trying to eat!"

*

"It has to be some kind of spell," said Pansy Parkinson to a couple of Slytherin girls. "Anything that ugly would need powerful magic to make any man want her. Not that Snape's any great prize, mind you. What do you think, Draco?"

Draco glared at her. "I think you should be quiet for five minutes so I _can_ think!" 

Pansy looked hurt, but obeyed.

Draco watched the giggling pair at the staff table furtively, careful not to incur Snape's wrath again. Every ounce of respect Draco had ever held for Professor Snape evaporated as observed their disgusting display. Snape might think he was stupid enough to take what he said to him the other day at face value, but Draco had eyes. He could see that Snape cared for Stanley much more than he led on. There must be some way Father could use it against her—against them both. As far as Draco was concerned, Snape was now one of _them_.

*

After dinner, Veronica returned to her office while Severus made for the dungeon. On his way there, Dumbledore appeared, seemingly out of nowhere as he was wont to do on occasion. Severus gave a small start, but quickly regained his composure. 

"Might I speak to you for a moment, Severus?"

"Certainly, Albus." Snape assumed that this was in reference to his increasingly complicated and bizarre relationship with Veronica, but chose to let Dumbledore bring the subject up in his own good time.

As they walked to the Headmaster's office, Dumbledore chatted about the weather, final exams, and the upcoming Christmas holiday until they were safely behind the old oak door, away from prying eyes and ears.

"About dinner tonight…" Dumbledore began.

"I did not ask Sinistra to move," Snape said almost defensively. "I apologize if we behaved inappropriately. I assure you it won't happen again."

"There is absolutely nothing wrong with the way either of you behaved, despite Minerva's admonitions," Dumbledore replied. "Veronica is a very sweet and funny woman; personally I'm delighted you've become such good friends."

"But…"

"But, we both have other concerns beyond the personal."

"I've taken care of that, Albus." Severus proceeded to relate his little chat with Draco Malfoy, careful to omit the part where he slammed the boy against the wall.

Dumbledore sighed. "Severus, you can tell a man that the moon is made out of green cheese, but it doesn't mean he'll believe you. I think it was obvious to anyone who was paying attention that you think of her as more than just a casual amusement."

Severus swore under his breath.

Dumbledore put a fatherly hand on his shoulder. "This friendship of yours may very well put Veronica in danger, but I suspect she's already figured that out. I am loathed to tell you to suppress your feelings for her—I believe tonight was the first time I ever saw you laugh—but I would be remiss if I didn't tell you to be careful, at least in public, for her sake as well as yours." 

*

As he returned to his dungeon, Severus decided not to tell Veronica about his conversation with Dumbledore. No use in worrying her; she already knew she was a target, at least as far as the Malfoys were concerned.

As to her behavior towards him in public, it would be next door to useless to tell her to behave any differently. He doubted she would be able to be anything but herself without drawing even more attention to their relationship. Besides, Severus liked her just the way she was. The other alternative was that he could try not being her friend again. He rolled his eyes. _Oh yes, that worked ever so well the last time._

He would just have to be more reserved towards her in public, but the problem was that she brought out this ridiculous side of his nature—a side he didn't even know he had. Severus found he enjoyed making her laugh; he did and said things he probably shouldn't because it seemed so natural to do so when he was with her. No doubt it was all the fault of his damned heart. He chided his intellect for once again laying down on the job. _It could be worse_, he thought. _I could be in love with her. _A feeling of impending doom suddenly washed over him.For one, shining moment Severus thought it was that stroke finally coming to take him, but to his dismay it was just another blood vessel harmlessly bursting inside his brain.

*

On Christmas morning, Severus awoke to someone knocking at his door. It was still dark, but then he lived in a dungeon, it was always dark. "Who is it?"

"Happy Christmas!"

Mumbling a couple of choice oaths, he climbed out of bed and answered the door in his long gray nightshirt looking more disgruntled than usual. "Great gods, Veronica, it's six o'clock in the morning!"

Veronica had a wide smile on her face and several packages in her arms, flushed with annoying holiday cheer. "Happy Christmas!" she repeated. He scowled and started to close the door, but she managed to catch it with her foot before he shut it. "There's no way even you can dampen my Christmas spirit."

He glowered at her. "Not even if I try especially hard?"

"Sorry." She pushed her way in and deposited two packages on the armchair by the fire and then emptied a bag full of sweets from Honeydukes on his desk. "I just love Christmas!" she proclaimed, giggling like a little girl. 

"Why doesn't that surprise me?"

Veronica took a good look around his room. Despite popular belief, she had never been there before. Most everything, including his bedding was done in black. "Very dark and dank. It's you."

"Couldn't this have waited until later?"

"I always wake up early on Christmas morning. Besides, I'm going to my parents' house after breakfast. They always have a big do on Christmas. My brothers, their wives and children— whole family." She hesitated. "I was wondering... if you would like to come? I'd understand if you didn't, I mean, my entire family at one time would be a bit overwhelming for anybody."

"Thank you, but no," he replied. "I doubt I could stand quite that much holiday fun." Severus actually had a previous engagement he didn't dare tell her about. He was relieved to hear she would be otherwise occupied today. He walked to his desk and picked a toffee out of the pile of sweets. 

Veronica opened a Chocolate Frog, positioning the box in such a way that the frog jumped straight into her mouth. When one of the frog's wiggling legs popped out of her mouth, she shoved it back in.

"That was disgusting," he said, visibly impressed.

"Thank you," she replied proudly with her mouth full. She looked at the accompanying card. "Look, I got Wendelin the Weird! Been looking for her for ages." Wendelin was being happily burned at the stake for the twelfth time. She finally swallowed her Chocolate Frog and said, "I know I'm a bit silly, but I thought all this might bring back some of your happy Christmas memories from when you were young."

"Unlike you, I wasn't raised by Christmas elves." Then more quietly, "I'm afraid I haven't many fond memories of my youth." She looked sympathetic, but thankfully didn't press for details. Severus then picked up a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans. "This does bring back one memory—not related to Christmas though. I doubt you'd approve."

Veronica placed his gifts on the floor and settled into the armchair by the fire. "Tell me anyway, I'm feeling particularly charitable today."

He grinned mischievously. "When I was a student I invented a potion that would turn vomit-flavored beans the color of strawberry beans, but they still tasted like vomit. There was this half-witted Gryffindor boy by the name of Pettigrew—before you say anything, trust me when I say that even you wouldn't have liked him—who would eat anything—"

"Oh, Severus," she said disapprovingly, trying to hide her smile.

"The silly fool fell for it half a dozen times before his friends told him not to take anything from me any more."

Veronica laughed. "That's evil." 

"If you think that's evil you should hear what I used to do to Sugar Quills. On second thought, never mind. Knowing you you'd think of some way to use your Anti-Bully Charm on me retroactively."

Eyeing him with exaggerated suspicion, Veronica rose and gathered up the Sugar Quills from the pile of sweets and stuffed them in her pocket. "I think we should get to the presents before I decide to give you a lump of coal instead." She handed him the larger of the two gifts. "Speaking of the Anti-Bully Charm, I got to feeling a little guilty—"

He hefted the heavy package in his hands. "It's too big to be a counterspell."

"That's because it isn't a counterspell, but hopefully it'll help make things a little less painful for you."

Severus removed the wrapping. It was a book, _Yoga for the Utterly Clueless_. On the cover was a perky Indian woman balanced precariously on one foot. She smiled at him encouragingly. "Very amusing."

"There's more." Veronica handed him the smaller package that had 'Zonko's Joke Shop' splayed across it.

He opened it up and found an extremely hideous demon-headed doll. "I do not play with dolls. I have _never_ played with dolls."

"Squeeze it."

With a sigh, Severus squeezed it. The demon's head, eyes, nose and tongue bulged out grotesquely. He laughed out loud.

Veronica beamed. "For those days when you feel like throttling someone. I suggest you keep it close at hand at all times."

"I think I'll call it 'Potter'." Severus squeezed it as hard as he could and smiled devilishly. 

"You're looking more relaxed already." Veronica patted his hand affectionately. "Happy Christmas, Severus." She then left him to enjoy his presents and ready himself for breakfast.

Her gift from him was coming by owl post that morning, but he hadn't let on that he had bought her anything. She certainly didn't seem to care whether he had or not. Severus was glad that at least he had the good sense to have her gift delivered to her office rather than to the Great Hall at breakfast. Perhaps it wasn't wise to give her anything at all, but it was something she needed and he wanted her to have it.

Severus was just about to leave for the Great Hall when he felt an excruciating and frighteningly familiar burning sensation on his left arm. He pulled up his sleeve and saw his Dark Mark showing clearly. _The nightmare begins again._

*

On the way back to her office, Veronica stopped by the bathroom. As she washed her hands she wondered if she had been too pushy, bursting into his room like that so early in the morning_. I suppose it's all right, it is Christmas after all, and he did seem to appreciate the effort a little. No harm done._

Veronica looked up, caught her reflection in the mirror and winced_. Oh dear, I can't believe I went down there with my hair looking like _that! _And could my face be any pastier, I wonder?_ _Maybe I should start wearing just a little makeup..._ She laughed nervously and thought, _Like it matters. It's just Severus, for goodness sake._ After all, he was just a broody and tortured Potions Master/spy with dark, piercing eyes and long black hair, who lived in a dungeon and could his deep, sonorous voice be _any_ sexier…? She splashed icy cold water on her face in order to bring herself back down to earth. Even if it was possible for her to express herself physically with a man, she doubted Severus was in the market for a Christmas elf. 

She left the bathroom and rushed to her office, desperately wishing she had papers to grade. It really wasn't that she found Severus attractive, she told herself, he was just especially dear to her because he didn't seem to be dear to anyone else. Veronica had friends and a wonderful family who loved her unconditionally. What did he have? Dumbledore. Though she knew Severus trusted him completely, Dumbledore was at least partially responsible for his renewed involvement with the Death Eaters. What if Severus lost his life—or worse, what if he lost his soul? _Well, he won't if I have anything to say about it._

When she let herself into her office, it took her a moment or two before she saw the unmistakably-shaped package sitting on her desk. _Oh, Severus, tell me you didn't get me a broom_. She read the attached note:

__

Veronica,

Thank you for making me feel like one of the good guys.

Happy Christmas,  
Severus

That was the sweetest thing anyone had ever said to her. _Damn, why did he have to do that?_ She quickly unwrapped the package, then stood there, stunned. She swallowed hard, blinking back a few tears. Veronica had to read the gold lettering stamped on the broom's sleek handle three times before it sunk in. It wasn't the Bluebottle Compact Turbo she had coveted for a whole year, it was a bloody Nimbus Two Thousand Two! 

*

Veronica bounced into breakfast, even more flushed with holiday cheer than she had been earlier—something Severus would have thought impossible just a few moments ago. She settled next to him in her now permanent seat at the staff table and beamed at him as she ate her poached eggs and fruit. _Would just one sausage kill her?_ He grinned slightly himself. She must have gotten the broom. Perhaps he shouldn't have been so extravagant, but he could easily afford it. His parents may not have left him with many happy memories, but they did leave him a small fortune. Besides, it was Christmas. 

There were only a handful of students staying over for the Christmas holiday, but she waited until after breakfast to speak to him. "Thank you so much, Severus, but—" 

"If you say anything foolish like 'I can't accept this—'"

"Not to worry," Veronica said brightly. "The only way you'll get that broom back is if you pry it from my cold, dead hands. But you really, _really_ shouldn't have. I would have settle for a Bluebottle. I would have settle for my old one being repaired." She pulled the accompanying note from her pocket. "Honestly, I would have settled for this."

Severus flushed slightly, but remained deadpan. "It is never wise to question my rare moments of generosity. You never know when—or if—the next moment will ever come." 

She nodded. "All right, but I really wish you would reconsider coming with me to Christmas dinner. My parents would love to have you."

He raised an eyebrow.

"Well, they'd get used to you." Veronica smiled sweetly. "I have."

"I can't." He paused. "I have something I have to do tonight."

As she looked into his eyes, her expression changed from one of curiosity to worry. "Oh, I see. Be careful, eh?" 

Severus nodded and started to turn away. 

After a moment's hesitation, Veronica stopped him, stood on her toes and threw her arms around his neck. She whispered, "Don't forget, you're one of the good guys." Severus so wanted to wrap his arms around her and hold her close, but he didn't dare. After a few seconds she released him and rushed away. 

*

Severus was led, blindfolded, down several flights of stone steps. He heard the sound of a key being turned, then an old door creaking open. The Death Eater accompanying him pushed him through the door without a word, then roughly removed his blindfold. 

Though Severus had known what to expect, it was still a bit of a shock to see Lord Voldemort standing before him in simple black robes, pale and scaly, with his snake-like eyes boring into him. 

"Do you have it?" the Dark Lord asked.

Severus reached into his pocket and withdrew a vial filled with green liquid. He placed it in Voldemort's outstretched hand. 

"A few moments after ingestion, it first paralyzes, then proceeds to eat away the victim's body from the inside out," Snape explained proudly. "The victim remains conscious for most of it, of course." 

Voldemort grinned a snaky grin. "Excellent! You've outdone yourself, Severus."

Snape bowed his head. "Does this mean I've finally redeemed myself, My Lord?"

The Dark Lord eyed the vial. "Ask me tomorrow. What do you call it?"

"I thought I'd leave that to you, My Lord." 

"How about 'Voldemort's Revenge'?" Snape tried to look encouraging but Voldemort didn't seem too pleased with it either. "I'll work on it."

Severus smiled graciously and once again bowed his head as Veronica's painfully ironic words flashed through his mind… 

__

Don't forget, you're one of the good guys.

*

Rupert Balin pulled up the sleeve of his tattered robe and regarded the Dark Mark on his left forearm nostalgically. The exquisite burning was almost a comfort as he sat in his cold, barren prison cell. Voldemort was calling his Death Eaters to his side, and only Azkaban's security measures prevented Balin from being transported to the Dark Lord as well. This was the second time in six months that his Mark had burned. Voldemort was powerful again. Powerful enough to give his old right-hand man sanctuary. It was time to go. Balin picked another bug out of his long, filthy beard and squashed it. It was definitely time to go.

Balin glanced at the two dementors guarding him in his cell as they paced restlessly. They felt Voldemort's power rising, too, but they didn't understand it, not really. He would just have to make them understand. The trouble was that because Balin had no soul, the dementors liked to keep their distance. "Come closer," he said in a friendly way to the rotting, robed creatures. They approached him warily. "Let me tell you about this lovely little place called Picadilly. So many wonderful souls to feed on…"

***

****

End of Part Two

****

To be continued in Part Three: "Restoration"


	7. Snape's Christmas Nightmare

****

Part Three: Restoration

*

A/N: "Restoration" is the third part of my "Hufflepuff" trilogy. I decided to post "Book Three" along with "Book Two" instead of posting it as a separate story since it is a direct continuation of the second part. Though it is not necessary to read "Book One: Death Eater's Inc." to enjoy it, it is where we first meet the evil Professor Balin; his 'pet', Isela; and the spirited Muggle nurse, Miss Robbins. So if you like what you've read, you might want to check it out. Comments are encouraged and appreciated. Thanks to Yolanda and Zsenya, my Sugar Quill beta-readers for their help and encouragement.

***

****

Chapter Seven: Snape's Christmas Nightmare

Peter Pettigrew, better known to his allies and enemies as Wormtail, stamped his feet in the snow, trying unsuccessfully to warm himself. He gazed briefly at his companion and thought longingly, _I bet she knows how to keep a man warm_. 

Isela (Wormtail didn't know if she even had a surname) had been one of Voldemort's followers while he was still a Hogwarts student, but you couldn't tell by looking at her. She was darkly exquisite with long, silky, black hair and a voluptuous body. Despite the tremendous energy she undoubtedly used to keep herself young and beautiful, Isela was one of Voldemort's deadliest Death Eaters. She was also haughty and cruel; she usually looked at Wormtail (when she look at him at all) as if he were a pile of owl droppings. True, he was short, balding, and dumpy, but Wormtail had hoped that tonight he could prove himself worthy of her favors. So far, things weren't going very well.

Isela pulled her black cloak more tightly around her. "This is an outrage! The most important night in the history of Dark wizardry and here I am playing babysitter to a rat." She dug in her robe pocket and pulled out a vial of green liquid with a thin leather strap tied around it. "I could be torturing Muggles right now. It is not fair!" She jerk her head towards Wormtail. "Well, get on with it."

With a faint _pop_, Wormtail transformed himself from a short, bald, dumpy man into a fat, pathetic looking rat. Through his beady rat eyes, he saw Isela bend down, then he felt her tie the vial around his neck—a bit too snugly for his liking.

"Don't forget, you worthless rodent, if you fail, Voldemort promised me that I could kill you myself." Isela flashed him a perfect, contemptuous smile. "I suppose there is a bright side to everything."

He was half tempted to run up her leg and frighten her for once, but he had work to do. Despite Isela's complaining, Wormtail's task was by far the most important of this historic night. His Master had trusted him with it and Wormtail was determined he would not fail. 

He scurried underneath the great wrought iron gates and ran across the snow covered grounds of the great country estate. It took him several minutes to find an opening he could squeeze himself through, but as soon as he did, he wasted no time in finding the owner's renown wine cellar.

Wormtail's timing couldn't have been better. Right on schedule, the house-elf came down the cellar stairs and went to pick a bottle of rare port off the shelf. As the house-elf used the tea towel around its waist to wipe the dust off the bottle, Wormtail transformed back into his pudgy human form, purposely startling the creature. The house-elf let out a little yelp, the bottle slipped from its hand and crashed to the floor. The house-elf was torn between alarm at the stranger standing before him and panic at the smashed bottle of port on the floor, but only briefly. 

"Master give Twanky clothes for this," said the house-elf, twisting its tea towel in its hands in distress. "Master say one more broken bottle and it be clothes for Twanky." The creature then regarded Wormtail with accusing, tear-filled eyes. "You is a bad wizard, you make Twanky drop bottle!"

Wormtail was particularly thankful for the fact that house-elves were notoriously stupid. Twanky was no exception. Wormtail put on his most sympathetic expression. "I'm sorry I made you drop the bottle, Twanky. I just so happen to have a magic potion that will make the bottle good as new. Would you like that, Twanky?"

The house-elf nodded vigorously, eyes wide with hope.

Wormtail had planned on putting the Imperius Curse on the house-elf in order to force it to put the poison into the bottle, but he hoped this would work just as well. _It better or Voldemort will have me killed._ He squatted before the broken bottle, opened the vial of green liquid gingerly and poured it on the spilled wine, careful not to splash any on himself. He then took out his wand and pointed it at the glass shards. "Reparo!" The bottle was instantly repaired. It's contents, including the poison, were sealed inside. 

The house-elf picked up the bottle gleefully. "You is a good wizard! Twanky not get clothes Christmas night!" Now that that crisis was over, Twanky's tiny brain turned its attention to the other issue of a stranger being in its master's house. The house-elf pointed a finger at him. "You not supposed to be here. I tell Master." Twanky turned to go up the cellar stairs, but Wormtail grabbed him. 

By the time he had performed a powerful Memory Charm on Twanky, the house-elf's mind was half destroyed. He was forced to use the Imperius Curse after all so that Twanky could serve its master for the very last time. With a _pop_, Wormtail once again became his rat self. He followed the house-elf up the stairs to its master's dining room to watch the fun.

*

After Snape left Voldemort and returned to Hogwarts, he locked himself in his dungeon room and took a dose of Dreamless Draught mixed with Firewhiskey in a vain attempt to block out the pain of what he'd done. He also hoped futilely that the potion would prevent the nightmare he knew would invade his mind as he slept. He had no idea who Voldemort intended to use his poison on, but Snape had no doubt it would be front page news in the _Prophet _tomorrow.

Years ago, when Severus first agreed to spy on Voldemort and his Death Eaters for Dumbledore, he had done it in hopes of redeeming himself for the sins he had committed in Voldemort's service—the naïve hope of a young man. Unfortunately, he had been forced to commit acts just as heinous in order to play his part. Dumbledore was not a stupid man, he must have had some idea of what Severus had been forced to do, but the old wizard never pressed for details. Necessarily, Snape's heart hardened as he realized that redemption was beyond his grasp, but a little bit of that senseless hope remained. That was the reason he felt the pain he did when forced to commit these evil acts, but his heart never hurt as it did tonight. He usually carried his guilt in his stomach, so why the heartache? 

There was just one answer to that question: Veronica and her inexplicable faith in him. When she told him he was one of the good guys, she _believed_ it and she made him believe it too, if only for a moment. When he looked into her eyes he saw hope for his redemption and faith that his soul was eminently redeemable. How did she do that? Was it unique to her or did all Hufflepuffs believe in such silliness? She was like a child in so many ways. As he drifted off to sleep, Severus sincerely hoped that she would never completely grow up. 

When he found his dream self in the ward of St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, Severus groaned. _Why can't she leave me alone_? 'She' was Miss Robbins, the Muggle nurse Snape had killed when he was first initiated into the Death Eaters. She, or rather her spirit, had been the reason why Snape had left Voldemort's service; she was the one who had led him to Dumbledore. Ever since that fateful night, Miss Robbins had invaded his dreams every time Severus killed—even indirectly, like tonight. She made sure he looked into the eyes of every one of his victims. What Snape could never figure out was Miss Robbins trying to keep his hope of redemption alive or was she trying to quash it completely?

The hospital ward was filled Voldemort's many victims, not just the ones Snape was responsible for. He traversed the ward in search of Miss Robbins and finally found her at the bedside of Cedric Diggory. They were playing a game of wizard chess.

Diggory looked up at him with surprise. "Oh, hello, Professor Snape. You-Know-Who get you, too?"

Snape shook his head. "No, Mr. Diggory. I'm just visiting."

Miss Robbins, still in her white uniform and starched white cap, turned around and regarded Snape with that irritating, all-knowing, enigmatic smile of hers. "I'll be with you in just a moment, Severus."

"Take your time, please," he grumbled. As Snape waited for them to finish their game, he took a good look at Diggory for the first time. His gray eyes held the same look of hope and faith that Veronica's did. Perhaps all Hufflepuffs did look that way. Not surprising he never noticed before. Slytherins generally dismissed Hufflepuffs as dull-witted worker bees—and they weren't the only ones. Snape thought guiltily of Veronica's 'Spares' speech and felt he had to say something to Diggory to make up for it. "Mr. Diggory…Cedric, you're sorely missed by your classmates—and the faculty. I just thought you'd like to know."

Both Cedric and Miss Robbins stared at Severus open-mouthed. Snape's lip curled in a snarl. "What are the two of you looking at? Can we get on with this, Miss Robbins? I haven't got all night."

Miss Robbins excused herself and led Severus through the ward to her tea and biscuit cart. She continued to stare at him in amazement.

He sighed heavily. "Can't a person say something nice without everyone making an issue of it?"

"Not if that person is you," Miss Robbins replied as she poured a cup of tea and put a few biscuits on a china plate. "I've known you for years, Severus, and that is the first time I've ever heard you say something kind. Why the change?"

He had no intention of telling Miss Robbins about Veronica, so he put on his best sneer and snapped, "Can we stick to the reason why I was brought here? Just show me who I killed this time, so I can get the hell out of here."

Suddenly, Snape heard someone bellow, "_MISS ROBBINS_!"

The nurse rolled her eyes and jerked her thumb over her shoulder in the direction of the call. "_That _is the reason why you were brought here tonight."

The voice sounded vaguely familiar, but Severus couldn't quite place it. 

Miss Robbins glowered at Snape, her hands on her hips. "As if I didn't have enough work to do, you send me a bloody politician!" 

"Politician?" Guilt mixed with a good dose of fear traveled from his heart into its usual place in the pit of his stomach. "Which politician?"

She handed him the plate of biscuits, but held onto the cup of tea herself. "Bed 863—I'd better go with you. You can tell me if this git is even half as important as he seems to think he is."

Severus looked down at the plate of biscuits as he followed Miss Robbins to bed 863. He only looked up when the bed's occupant said his name. 

"Snape? What in the devil are you doing here?"

__

Great gods, no. Snape raised his head and looked into the eyes of Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic; the ex-Minister of Magic. 

"Here's your tea, Mr. Fudge," said Miss Robbins irritably as she handed him the cup and saucer. A few drops spilled on his pinstriped pajamas. "And I'll have no more yelling, do you hear me? You're disturbing the other patients."

Fudge brushed the spilled tea off his pajamas and blustered, "Do be more careful, Sister! I wouldn't be forced to yell if you would spend less time playing chess with that Diggory boy and more time doing your job. I've been waiting for my tea for half an hour."

"If you don't change that nasty attitude of yours, you'll wait two hours next time," she retorted. Miss Robbins then grabbed the plate of biscuits from Severus and plopped them unceremoniously in Fudge's lap.

If Snape hadn't been in shock, he would really be enjoying this.

"How dare you speak to me in that manner?" cried Fudge. "Severus, I demand that you tell her who I am!"

Snape was startled back into full awareness and turned to Miss Robbins. "Mr. Fudge is…was our Minister of Magic; the equivalent of your British Prime Minister."

"Well, I don't care if you're the bloody Queen of England," she told Fudge angrily, "you'll wait your turn like everyone else." She marched away and Severus followed, as grateful as she was to leave Fudge's side.

"You know, Severus, I am really getting tired of this," Miss Robbins said. Her tone had an anxious edge to it Snape had never heard before. "It's bad enough I have to deal with the likes of Fudge, but when I have to take in a lovely boy like Cedric—" her voice broke as she blinked back a few tears. "I thought your friend Dumbledore was going to kill Lord What's-His-Name and stop all this."

"We're working on it," Snape said without enthusiasm. 

She put a friendly hand on his arm. "Speaking of, when are _you_ going to stop sending me more patients?" 

Severus almost said, 'You sound like Veronica', when Miss Robbins pointed to the ceiling. 

"Friend of yours?" she asked, a big grin on her face.

Snape looked up and saw Veronica in her blue flannel pj's, with the big yellow ducks in pointed green wizard hats, flying through the hospital ward on her new Nimbus Two Thousand Two. The patients clapped as she did flips and turns before flying around Severus and waving. Snape broke out in a wide smile as he watched her. He was just about to compliment her on her fancy flying, when panic hit him. He turned to Miss Robbins and grabbed her frantically by the shoulders. "Tell me Voldemort didn't kill Veronica!"

The nurse put her hands on his arms and gazed at him reassuringly. "She's fine, Severus! She's just dreaming. You must have been thinking of her and she decided to come visit." Miss Robbins regarded him with a sly smile. 

"Don't look at me that way," he growled. "She's just a friend."

Miss Robbins shrugged. "Whatever you say."

Veronica flew back to the pair and landed. She seemed only vaguely aware of Miss Robbins and the hundreds of patients lying in their beds. She took Severus by the hands and bounced up and down a couple of times like a little girl. 

"Let's play a game of two-man Quidditch, Severus. I'm sure Madam Hooch would lend you a broom if you asked very nicely."

One corner of his mouth curled up in an affectionate smirk. "There's no such thing as two-man Quidditch, Veronica."

"Well, there is now," she replied. "I just made it up. Please say you'll play."

Miss Robbins grinned. "I like her."

"No one asked you," Snape retorted.

Miss Robbins snapped her fingers.

Suddenly, Severus and Veronica were no longer in St. Mungo's, but were in Voldemort's lair—a cold, stone room deep in the bowels of an ancient building. Miss Robbins was nowhere to be seen. As he did last night, Snape reached in his pocket and withdrew a vial of green liquid and put it in Voldemort's outstretched hand.

He felt Veronica tug on his arm. Her brow was furrowed with distress and her eyes were filled with fear. "Let's go, Severus. I don't like the kind of games he plays."

Severus gently took her by the shoulders. "Veronica, you need to go home; you shouldn't be here."

"Neither should you. You're one of the good guys." Veronica threw her arms tightly around him. This time Severus wrapped his arms around her and held her close.

Voldemort's red eyes narrowed, his deathly pale face twisted with anger. "Are you one of us, Snape, or are you one of _them_?"

A white mist encircled Voldemort and the Dark Lord morphed into Miss Robbins. "What'll be Severus? I suggest you make your decision before she does get hurt." 

Severus woke up with a start, bathed in sweat. _Damn it! When will this nightmare end?_

*

Veronica awoke and tried to grasp onto the quickly fading memory of the strange dream she just had. Something about her trying to get Severus to play two-man Quidditch. _What in the hell is two-man Quidditch?_ There was darkness, too, but she couldn't recall specifics. It was probably just a product of worry. She assumed the 'something' Severus had to do last night involved Voldemort. She was certain he was safe, but would feel much better when she saw him later today. She had planned on returning to Hogwarts last evening, but she had had one too many glasses of her father's Christmas punch, so she decided to stay over at her parents' cottage. It was small and her mother drove her a bit mad, but it was home.

She sat up in bed and gazed happily at her shiny new Nimbus Two Thousand Two propped up in the corner of her old bedroom. Her parents and brothers had been understandably impressed when she flew in on it yesterday afternoon. Veronica had told them Professor Dumbledore had given it to her as a sort of bribe to get her to stay on as Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, but she wasn't quite sure they believed her. Severus was right, she was an extraordinarily bad liar. 

Perhaps she shouldn't have lied, but she wasn't ready to explain Severus to them quite yet. For them to truly understand their friendship, she felt she would finally have to tell them about what Balin had done to her. She placed her hand over the Dark Mark he had burned into her just above her heart. _Soon, but not yet_. Veronica jumped with alarm when she suddenly heard frantic banging on her bedroom door. 

"Vee, sweetie, wake up! Wake up, Vee, something terrible has happened!" It was her mother. It sounded like she was crying. 

Veronica sprang out of bed, threw on a robe and followed her mother into the parlor. Her father was there listening to the wireless as he clutched a copy of the _Daily Prophet _in his hands so tightly that his knuckles were white.Her mother took Veronica's hand and put her other arm around Mr. Stanley's shoulders as they all listened to the WWN report: 

__

…at least a dozen attacks have been reported all over Britain. Two members of the Muggle Parliament along with their families have been killed. The most shocking news of this tragic Boxing Day, of course, is the death of the wizarding world's beloved Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge. It is still unclear who or what exactly killed Mr. Fudge, but WWN correspondent, Polly Goodcroft, reports that she has never witnessed such a gruesome scene in all her years as a journalist. Eyewitnesses have reported seeing the unmistakable symbol of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named—the Dark Mark—above the houses of each and every victim. The Ministry of Magic has yet to make an official statement, but Ministry sources warn that the Christmas Night Massacre is likely just the beginning of a new reign of terror…

Veronica pried the _Prophet_ from her father's hands. On the front page was the Headline: 'MINISTER OF MAGIC MURDERED! YOU-KNOW-WHO TO BLAME!' The picture accompanying the story was of an hysterical Mrs. Fudge and a very confused house-elf. _Oh, gods, please, Severus, tell me you had nothing to do with this._

Just then, a Hogwarts owl tapped on the Stanleys' cottage window with its beak. Mrs. Stanley quickly let the owl in and it promptly dropped a letter in Veronica's hands. The owl flapped its wings and puffed out its chest importantly. "Mum, could you…?"

"Certainly, dear." Mrs. Stanley wiped her eyes and motioned for the owl to follow her into the kitchen for some food and water. She appeared grateful to be doing something other than listen to the dreadful news.

Veronica broke the red seal and ripped the envelope in her haste to pull out the letter. It was from Dumbledore. Her hands shaking and her heart pounding in her chest, she read:

__

Dear Veronica,

By now, you have no doubt heard about last night's tragedy. Unfortunately, I must ask that you cut your holiday short. Your presence is required at Hogwarts immediately. Come straight to my office as soon as you arrive. Please extend my apologies to your parents.

Albus Dumbledore

She breathed a massive sigh of relief when she read the next line:

__

PS: Severus is safe. 

"Who's Severus?" her father asked. Veronica hadn't noticed that he was reading over her shoulder.

"Just a friend," she said quickly. "Dad, I've got to go."

Mr. Stanley gave her a loving squeeze. "I know, sweetheart." He took his daughter's face in his hands. "I just want you to know how very proud we are of you. I just hope Dumbledore doesn't expect you to do anything too dangerous. Please be careful." 

"Oh, Dad, don't worry. It's not as if I'll be taking on Voldemort single-handedly. At best, I'll be a consultant."

Her father winced slightly at the sound of the Dark Lord's name, but didn't comment. Veronica had spent years trying to break her family of the 'You-Know-Who' habit with some success.

She hugged him and place a kiss on his cheek. "Just remember those Defense Spells I taught you. And Dad, be sure to recharge the wards around the house."

"Now who's worrying unnecessarily?" he replied, trying to sound lighthearted. "Who in the world would want to hurt us?"

Veronica just smiled sadly and rushed to her room to dress. The only bright spot in all of this was that the one person who would want to hurt them was safely locked away in Azkaban. She just prayed Balin would stay there.

***


	8. Boxing Day

**Chapter Eight: Boxing Day**

"Severus, I wish you would have warned me," Dumbledore said with some irritation as they sat in the Headmaster's office the morning after the Dark Lord's strike against both the wizarding and Muggle worlds. 

The emergency Hogwarts faculty meeting had already taken place. Minerva was assisting the other staff members in rounding up the few students staying at the castle for the Christmas holidays, and safely ensconcing them in their respective dormitories. Veronica still hadn't arrived. _What was taking her so long? Severus thought impatiently. As soon as Veronica was here and Minerva returned, the __real meeting could begin. Snape fingered his teacup nervously. "You knew I went to Voldemort last night." _

"And when you didn't report anything to me, I assumed it was a routine meeting. One of his little loyalty tests."

"That's what I thought, too," Severus replied, not quite truthfully. "He mentioned nothing about these raids when I saw him." He had suspected Voldemort was planning something dramatic, but what good would it have done to give Dumbledore vague non-information? That's what Snape had been telling himself all morning. _Why didn't I inform him of my suspicions? "I do have reason to believe that he will trust me with more information from now on." _

Dumbledore gave him a significant look, then nodded and did not ask for the details of his involvement in last night's events, as usual. Severus found the Headmaster's characteristic lack of interest somewhat infuriating. Was it that he didn't care what Snape was forced to do or was it that as long as Dumbledore didn't know he wasn't partly responsible for the results of Snape's actions? Severus was thankful for Minerva's entrance a moment later. 

"The new Minister of Magic is here," Minerva announced in agitation.

Dumbledore sighed heavily. "Well, send her--"

Suddenly, a tall and elegant woman in blood-red robes threw open the Headmaster's office door. Several of the portraits of former headmasters and headmistresses opened their sleepy eyes with alarm. Fawkes, the usually serene phoenix, abandoned its golden perch and flew to the top of a bookcase at the other end of the room. 

Snape recognized the new Minister of Magic as Euphemia Wilmont. Until Fudge's death this morning, she had been the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Even though she had spent most of her career behind a desk, Wilmont had been a formidable Auror at one time. She was in her mid-sixties, but still quite attractive—perfectly coiffed hair, high cheekbones, brown eyes—not warm like Veronica's, but intelligent and exuding authority. Snape immediately felt like he was under inspection and found himself straightening his posture as he rose to his feet. He noticed Dumbledore doing the same. 

"Euphemia," Dumbledore said, "you're looking as lovely as always today. I would say congratulations on your promotion to Minister of Magic, but under the circumstances—"

"Sit down, old man!" Wilmont snapped. Dumbledore obeyed. "I just left the Muggle Prime Minister and he told me that you and he already met this morning and he feels confident that the plan of action the two of you worked out will do just fine, but thanked me for stopping by." She took a step towards Dumbledore who appeared very glad to be behind the safety of his desk. She glared at him dangerously. "Go over my head again, Albus, and I'll cut your legs off at the knees."

"Figuratively speaking, I hope?"

"Don't be too sure," Euphemia replied. "Just run you're little school and I'll take care of the rest of wizarding Britain. By the way, I'll be sending an Auror over later today to help watch over Hogwarts." 

"Just one?" Dumbledore didn't seem terribly disappointed that there wouldn't be more.

"As you know, we lost four last night," Wilmont explained tensely, "so my department—my former department is spread a bit thin. But we'll manage—without your help." 

She turned to leave, then, almost as an afterthought, she grabbed Snape's left arm and pulled up his sleeve. The Dark Mark was still visible. Snape heard Minerva gasp. Wilmont gave Snape a humorless smirk. "You didn't seriously think you could show it to Fudge and expect he wouldn't mention it to me, did you? I trust you slept well last night."

Snape pulled his arm away and rolled down his sleeve. "Like an innocent babe, Madam Minister. Thank you for asking."

"Oh, I am glad," she replied sarcastically. "I would hate to think that one of Hogwarts' finest professors was up to any mischief." Wilmont then sauntered regally out the door and slammed it behind her. 

Dumbledore scowled. "Lovely woman." 

Snape stared at the closed door, a evil sneer on his face. "Pity no one had the presence of mind to strangle her at birth."

Just then, the trio heard a cry from just outside the office. Snape rushed to the door, followed by Minerva and Dumbledore. They found Minister Wilmont sitting on the stairs holding her eye. Veronica had one hand over her mouth, eyes wide. In her other hand was her new Nimbus Two Thousand Two. There was a dent in the broom's handle.

"Oh my…oh, dear. Ma'am, I am so very _sorry," Veronica babbled sincerely. "Let me help you to the hospital wing." Veronica reached out for the older woman, but Wilmont recoiled. _

"Please, don't Miss—"

"Stanley," Veronica supplied.

Wilmont rose. "I think you've done enough for one day, Miss Stanley. Unless, of course, you'd like to blind me in the other eye as well." 

Dumbledore cleared his throat. Snape suspected it was to keep himself from laughing. "Minerva, would you be so kind as to escort the Minister to the hospital wing."

"Certainly, Albus." Minerva took Euphemia by the arm and led her away. 

Veronica watched them exit the secret passage, still looking absolutely mortified. 

Severus grinned. 'Gods, I missed you' is what he wanted to say, but it came out as, "You just hit the new Minister of Magic in the eye with your broom."

Veronica winced painfully. "Naturally, who else could it have been?"

Dumbledore smiled. "Don't worry, Veronica, that was the first good thing that's happened all day. I trust your dear family is well."

"Very well, thank you, sir," Veronica replied in a ridiculously formal tone as she gave the Headmaster an icy look.

At first, Severus thought her behavior was due to her resentment of Dumbledore's inaction when Balin was abusing her, but then he realized she blamed the Headmaster for his involvement in last night's events. After all, Snape as good as came out and told her he was meeting with Voldemort last night. She could easily put two and two together. _Did she remember the dream we had shared as well?_

"Might I speak to you for a moment?" Severus said quietly. Before she could answer he took her by the arm and pulled her into a corner. "Veronica, I realize you must have many questions, and I will answer them—later. Right now I need for you to…what was that phrase I heard the Weasley twins use when one of their classmates was whining about their Potions final? Oh yes, 'suck it up'."

Veronica nodded reluctantly. "Sorry." She then approached Dumbledore. "I apologize, sir, it's just that it's been a rather stressful day."

"For all of us," Dumbledore agreed. "But right now, I need you to put your personal feelings aside. We must be united in our fight against Voldemort."

Minerva returned just then. "Minister Wilmont will recover," she reported. "Unfortunately."

"Now that we're all here…" Dumbledore walked to the far side of his office and pulled out his wand. "_Fidelitas__ Veneratis Amor!" He then took a step forward and disappeared into thin air, followed by Professor McGonagall._

Severus then led Veronica through the invisible door, into a secret chamber somewhere in the castle (even Snape didn't know exactly where it was located). In the middle of the room was a large, round wooden table with the Hogwarts crest inlaid in the center. Snape suspected that the table was as old as Hogwarts itself. 

Most of Dumbledore's allies were already assembled: Arabella Figg, Mundungus Fletcher, Clarence Sibbery, among others. Snape saw Hagrid followed by Arthur Weasley appear seemingly out of nowhere. Weasley was no doubt the Ministry's unofficial representative. As he continued to look around the room, Severus scowled. Alastor Moody was here as well as Snape's two least favorite people in the entire world (next to Harry Potter, of course): Remus Lupin and his faithful dog, Sirius Black. Veronica, being the person that she was, made straight for the unregistered Animagus, thinking he was just a dumb animal and patted the big, black dog on the head. _Actually, 'dumb animal' is an accurate description for both the man and the beast. When Black started to lick Veronica's hand, Snape took her by the arm and steered her to an empty chair._

She gently shrugged him off. "Don't tell me you hate dogs, too?" 

"I hate that one," Snape replied as they took their seats. He was just about to tell her the truth about Black when her eyes filled with panic. 

"You didn't tell me Alastor Moody would be here!" Veronica whispered as she turned away from Moody and placed her hand above her heart as if that would be enough to hide her Dark Mark from the ex-Auror. 

Moody, who was chatting with Dumbledore, swung his magical eye in their direction. He and the Headmaster exchanged a few words, then Moody limped towards them, his wooden leg making a clunking sound on the stone floor. 

Despite his own fear of the ex-Auror, Snape met Moody's disconcerting gaze as he tried to shield Veronica from him.

"Professor Stanley?" Moody said kindly—well, as kindly as his gruff voice would allow. 

Veronica turned to him tentatively. 

"Dumbledore just told me where you got that little souvenir." A sympathetic expression crossed his gnarled features. "I'm sorry I couldn't kill him for you." Moody was the only Auror of the three sent to arrest Professor Balin twenty years ago who had survived. 

A few tears welled in Veronica's eyes as she jumped up and threw her arms around Moody's neck. "Thank you for trying."

_She certainly likes to hug people, doesn't she? Severus thought with vexation. Moody shot a parting glare at Snape, then left them as Dumbledore motioned that he was ready to begin the meeting._

Dumbledore stood at his place at the great table, looking as powerful as Severus had ever seen him. "As you all have heard, Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters have attacked both the wizarding and Muggle communities with unprecedented brutality. He has sent the unmistakable message that he has regained his full power and is more determined to use it than ever before. We of the Order of the Phoenix will not allow him to achieve his goal of dominance over the wizarding world. We cannot allow Voldemort to frighten us into submission."

"But to attack the Minister of Magic himself?" said Arabella Figg. "What's Voldemort playing at?"

"I believe the purpose of Fudge's assassination is two-fold," Dumbledore replied. "Last June, when Cedric Diggory was murdered, the circumstances of his death were covered up by Fudge. Part of the drive, the reward that Voldemort receives is the attention he gets for his evil acts and the fear it instills in the general public. Since Fudge was responsible for the cover-up, his death is an act of revenge, but it is also an act of terror. If Voldemort can get to the Minister of Magic, then no one is safe."

"How exactly did Fudge die?" asked Professor McGonagall. "From what the _Prophet and WWN reports described, it doesn't sound like it was the Killing Curse."_

"The experts at the Ministry think it was poison," Arthur Weasley said. "But it's like nothing any of them has ever seen before. Apparently, it ate Fudge away from the inside out."

Severus watched Veronica from the corner of his eye. Her expression didn't flicker, but under the table, he felt her take his hand and squeeze it reassuringly. He returned the squeeze and continued to hold onto her hand.

"Snape," growled Moody, you're the poison, I mean, _Potions expert—what do you think it was?"_

Severus realized too late that Moody might have been able to see Veronica take his hand under the table. "It doesn't sound like anything I've ever heard of before," he replied deadpan, looking Moody straight in the eyes. "But I'll be glad to research it right after the meeting."

"I'm afraid that will have to wait, Severus," Dumbledore told him. "You, Remus, and Professor Stanley will be constructing a new security barrier around the school today. I'll give the three of you further instructions after the meeting." Then he continued to address the Order, "I have spoken to the Muggle Prime Minister and he has agreed to let us handle Voldemort. Two members of the Muggle Parliament were killed as you all know. Their natural reaction was to strike back. I have convinced them of the futility of such action."

"What does Minister Wilmont have to say?" Clarence Sibbery asked. "Have you met with her yet?"

Moody snorted. Dumbledore sighed. "We spoke just before the meeting. Though Minister Wilmont will not hide her head in the sand as Fudge did, she has told me in no uncertain terms to mind my own business and let her people handle Voldemort. Voldemort and his Death Eaters are _our business. We will not be put off by the arrogance or ignorance of the Ministry, but we must be careful. We cannot afford to be shut down before we win this fight. Unfortunately, all we can do now is watch and wait. Any information you come across, no matter how insignificant, should be reported to me immediately. Be sure to properly encrypt any messages you send in case they are intercepted." The old wizard took one more look at each of his allies in turn. "This time we will not fail. Voldemort will be destroyed once and for all."_

The meeting was adjourned and the members of the Order filed out, disappearing through the room's invisible doors, many of them looking more anxious than they had before the meeting began. Severus, Veronica, Remus and Black the Dog stayed behind as Dumbledore requested.

"Are the three of you familiar with the ImpenetrabilusShield?" Dumbledore asked.

All three of them nodded, but looked skeptical. 

"It is a powerful shield, Albus," Remus said, "but it's very unstable."

"I expect the three of you to do what you must to make it stable enough to last until the new term starts. By then, I'll be able to put a more permanent barrier in place. I don't want anyone flying into Hogwarts when we aren't looking. I want the only entrance into the school to be at the main gates." He smiled wryly. "That's where we'll put that one Auror Euphemia so generously agreed to send us." Dumbledore then glared at Black. The Animagus whimpered and lowered his huge, shaggy head. "Remus, I thought I told you to keep your _dog at home."_

"I tried, Albus, but you know how disobedient he is."

Dumbledore clucked his tongue. "Yes, quite." 

Black backed away from the Headmaster and sidled up to Veronica.

"Oh, I know what you're after." Veronica dug in her robe pocket and took out something wrapped in a handkerchief. "Every time I leave my parents' house, my mum shoves a meat pie in my pocket," she told Severus. "I've been a vegetarian since I was ten, you'd think she'd be over it by now." She gave the meat pie to Black the Dog and scratched him behind the ears affectionately. Black gobbled it up in one swallow, jumped up and proceeded to lick Veronica's face.

Snape folded his arms across his chest angrily. "Veronica—" 

Black then rolled over on his back and allowed her to scratch his stomach. "Oh, you're a good dog, aren't you?"

"_Veronica, he's an Animagus!" Snape yelled. "Show yourself, Black!"_

With a _pop, Sirius Black transformed from the huge black dog into his human form. No longer gaunt and straggly, Black looked like his old, obnoxious—and much to Snape's chagrin—attractive self._

Veronica jumped to her feet and spun on Snape. "Why didn't you tell me he was an Animagus before I—?" She made a scratching motion with her hand and blushed.

"I tried, but you were apparently having too much fun to listen," he snapped sarcastically.

"Thanks ever so much for the meat pie—Veronica, is it? I'm Sirius Black." He held out his hand.

Instead of taking it, she took a few steps back when she recognized the name and face. Snape's lips curled in a satisfied smile. 

Dumbledore then proceeded to explain that Black had been falsely accused of the crimes Peter Pettigrew had committed.

"Pettigrew…" Veronica said, turning back to Severus, "isn't that the boy you tricked with the Bertie Bott's vomit-flavored beans?"

He nodded. "The very same."

Black circled Snape with a bemused smirk on his face. "Oh my, could it be? Look Remus, Snape's washed his hair!" Black then glanced from Veronica to Snape and back again. "And he's got himself a nice lady friend, too. What are the odds?"

"Let me guess," Veronica said with amusement, "you all hate each other."  

"_I don't hate anybody," Lupin said with good-natured superiority._

"All of you, be quiet!" Dumbledore said irritably. "Sirius, it's not safe for you to be here. You were supposed to remain at Lupin's."

"Under the circumstances, I wanted to make sure Harry was safe. I'd like to speak to him, if you don't mind. He is my godson, for goodness sake. I have a responsibility to him as well as to our cause." He glanced at Veronica as if to size her up, then added, "Harry is the most important part in all this, after all."

"You can speak to him—briefly," Dumbledore told him, "but you're not to tell him anything. Understood? Then you are to wait in my office until Remus is ready to take you home."

Black nodded, then with a _pop, he transformed back into his dog self and disappeared through the invisible door with Dumbledore._

Severus, Veronica and Lupin spent the rest of the morning and most of the afternoon putting up the ImpenetrabilusShield around the school. Even with the three of them, it was a formidable task. Lupin and Veronica chatted pleasantly while Severus sulked.

At one point, Lupin grinned at them in that infuriatingly nice way he had. "So, how long have you two been…?"

"Oh, we're just friends," said Veronica, a little too quickly, Snape thought.

Lupin was still wearing his ratty robes and his hair was prematurely gray, but Snape imagined many women would still find him to be an attractive man. _Why did Lupin and Black have to be so good-looking? Veronica had told him more than once that she had no interest in a romantic relationship with any man, but that still didn't make him feel any better. Much to his annoyance, he doubted that Veronica would be put off by the fact that Lupin was a werewolf. He snorted. __She'd probably feel sorry for him. _

"Something wrong, Severus?" Veronica asked.

He grunted in response; she rolled her eyes.

"The children still miss you very much, Professor Lupin," she said. "You made quite an impression on them."

"Call me Remus, please. It's nice to hear I haven't been forgotten." Lupin proceeded to ask her about the progress of a dozen students. Then, "How's Neville Longbottom doing?"

"Oh, wonderfully! I taught him this Anti-Bully Charm—" Veronica stopped herself and glanced at Snape. "I'll send you an owl about it later."

After they completed their task, Remus bid them goodbye and went to pick up Black. Severus and Veronica went to her office to discuss the day's events privately.

She made him a cup of tea and then fixed him with a look of disappointment. "Severus, I will never ask you to choose between me and Dumbledore, so please don't ask me to choose between you and the rest of the universe."

He looked down at his feet sheepishly. "Well, hypothetically, if you _had to choose, would you choose me or them?"_

"Severus, really!"

He got up and paced in frustration. "It's just that everyone loves you, Veronica. For some reason, I find that extremely irritating." 

She sighed in exasperation. "Everyone loves me, but nobody loves you, is that it?"

He chose not to confirm his unspoken thoughts and continued to pout. _Am I that obvious?_

"Not only are you completely pathetic," Veronica said with a laugh, "you're wrong. _I love you."_

Severus felt like a bolt of lightening had just passed through him. "You do?"

"Of course I do. You're quickly becoming the best friend I've ever had."

He turned away from her when he felt himself blush.

"That's why I can't bear to see you do things for the supposed good of the wizarding world while you murder your own soul in the process." She paused and met his eyes. "It was your poison that killed Fudge, wasn't it?"

Severus held up his hand defensively. "Please, Veronica. I cannot have this conversation."

"Why not?"

"Because if I let you talk me out of doing my duty…"

Veronica's expression became suddenly hopeful.

He pointed a warning finger at her. "Don't look at me that way. I have to do this. I have a debt to pay. You don't know what I've done."

"Torture? Murder?" she retorted. "I know what they do, Severus."

"Don't tell me," he said acerbically, "you forgive me."

Veronica shook her head sadly. "It's not my place to forgive you. Only your victims and their families can do that; but I will be your friend, which means I'll nag you to death until you stop this madness."

Severus felt a searing pain in his left arm. Voldemort was calling his followers to his side. _Now?__ It isn't even dark yet. If he weren't inside Hogwarts' Apparition barrier he would have already been transported to the Dark Lord's side. "I have to go."_

*

As Harry Potter approached Professor Stanley's office, he overheard her and Professor Snape talking…

"Not again, Severus," Stanley said sounding very upset. "Just _don't go!"_

"I must, Dumbledore is depending on me," Snape replied. "You of all people should understand why I have to do what I can to stop them!" Snape abruptly opened the door and startled Harry. His black eyes narrowed with suspicion. "What are you doing here, skulking about, Potter? You're supposed to be in your dormitory!"

"I know, but I wanted to talk to Professor Stanley," he said as he looked past Snape into the office. Professor Stanley had a handkerchief out and was drying her eyes. "I can come back later." 

Snape opened his mouth—no doubt to say something nasty—but closed it again. Harry knew it was because he was afraid of the Anti-Bully Charm. He and his classmates usually only used the charm right before Potions class, but Snape didn't know that. Why Professor Snape even liked the woman who had created the charm was a bit of a mystery to Harry and his friends.

Stanley approached Harry and motioned him inside. "It's all right, Harry, Professor Snape was just leaving. Please come in."

With one last sneer at Harry, Snape turned and marched down the corridor, his black robes billowing behind him. Stanley closed the door after him, then offered Harry a chair. He couldn't help wondering where Snape was going and why it made Professor Stanley so upset. _Was he going to Voldemort? He had been present when Snape had shown the late Mr. Fudge his Dark Mark. Shortly after that, Dumbledore had sent Snape on a secret errand. The conversation he had just overheard further confirmed his suspicions that Snape was once again spying on Voldemort for Dumbledore. _

Harry knew things were very bad—worse than they had ever been since his parents had been murdered fourteen years ago. He had felt his scar burn in the middle of the night, so he had known that Voldemort was up to something even before he read the _Prophet this morning. When he tried to talk to Professor Dumbledore about it, the Headmaster had told him not to worry, that he was safe. Harry had been buoyed by the unexpected opportunity to speak to his godfather, Sirius, just a few hours ago, but Sirius had told him the same thing—not to worry because Dumbledore had everything under control. What made all this so much worse was that Ron and Hermione were at their respective homes for the holidays. Sure, they had both sent him encouraging letters this morning by owl post, but it wasn't the same as having his best friends by his side. Harry wasn't quite sure why he expected Professor Stanley to treat him any differently than the other adults had, but in the past she had never lied to her students and usually had some practical advice to help in any given situation. _

"I was just about to make some cocoa," she said. "Would you like a cup?"

Harry nodded and tapped his foot nervously as he looked around her office. He had visited this office under its last  three occupants and each time the room reflected the personality of the instrutor. Professor Stanley was no different. There were photographs on her desk and mantle of what must be her entire family. The one on her desk was of a younger version of Stanley with an older woman who just had to be her mother. She had the same unruly curly hair and kind face as her daughter. 

One of Fred and George Weasley's fake wands that had half-turned into a rubber chicken was displayed on the bookshelf along with more books on the Dark Arts than Harry had ever seen outside the restricted section of Hogwarts' library. But what he saw in one corner of her office piqued Harry's interest more than any other object in the room. "Is that a Nimbus Two Thousand Two?"

"Yeah," she replied with an affectionate smile. "Professor Snape gave it to me for Christmas."

"Wow, he must _really like you!" Harry blushed and added, "Sorry." _

"That's all right," she said. Stanley picked up the broom and handed it to Harry so he could examine it more closely.

Harry noticed a dent in the handle. 

"Had a little mishap this morning," she said, grimacing.

Whatever the mishap was, it seemed she didn't want to talk about it, so Harry didn't inquire further. "I've heard this is even faster than the Firebolt." 

"I think that depends on who's riding it," she replied. "Perhaps you can give me some pointers on how to fly one of these as soon as they let us outside the castle. I've never owned a racing broom before."

"Sure, Professor." The momentary distraction that the broom had provided faded quickly. Harry sighed.

Professor Stanley took the broom from him and motioned for him to sit back down, then handed him his cocoa. "You didn't come here to talk about brooms, did you?"

He shook his head.

She looked at him with a comforting expression of sympathy. "We're all afraid, Harry," she said. "It's all right for you to feel that way, too."

Any doubt Harry had had about coming to Professor Stanley disappeared. "It's just that everyone keeps telling me not to worry. I'm trying, but…"

"But given your past history it seems a bit unrealistic?"

Harry nodded. He felt tears stinging his eyes, but was determined not to start blubbering like an idiot, even though he doubted Stanley would hold it against him. "I know Voldemort will come after me again soon. I can't help thinking that my luck is bound to run out and the next time we meet, I won't be able to get away, let alone beat him."

Stanley rose to her feet. "Well, it sounds like an extra credit Defense lesson is in order. That is, if you're up to it?"

Harry grinned with relief. "Thanks, Professor."

*

Harry followed Professor Stanley into the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. She went to a cupboard and pulled out several big, cushy pillows and put them on the floor behind her. Harry took his wand out of his pocket.

"I'll be teaching you the Stunning Spell today," she announced brightly.

Harry didn't bother to hide his disappointment. "But I already know that one."

"Not without a wand you don't." She approached him, took the wand out of his hand and placed it on her desk. She then stood in front of the pillows again and asked, "Has anyone ever explained to you exactly how a wand works?"

Harry glanced at his wand longingly and then thought back to his first-year Charms class. "Professor Flitwick told us that the wand focuses and amplifies the spells we cast."

"Exactly," Stanley said approvingly. "It's just a tool—a very useful tool certainly, but it doesn't make the magic happen, you do. Theoretically, you can make any spell work without a wand. The trick is focusing enough energy to make it work. There are ways of using ambient energy for that purpose, but that's too advanced even for you."

Harry nodded in understanding, but was still unconvinced. He had made things happen on occasion without his wand (blowing up Aunt Marge came to mind), but he never actually intended anything to happen—it just _happened_.

"Now, what I want you to do is gather up that fear you're feeling right now, focus it and throw it out at me with your wand hand as if you were holding it, while you say the spell." His concern must have registered on his face, because she added, "Don't worry, you can't hurt me. When I worked for the Madragora Institute for Magical Research, I had the Cruciatus Curse thrown at me every day."

Harry would never forget what it felt like to be under that terrible curse and couldn't imagine anyone letting someone curse them voluntarily. "Why?!"

"We were trying to find a way to block it."

"Any luck?" he asked hopefully.

"Afraid not," she replied. "But I did discover that it's slightly more bearable if you don't try to resist it."

"I'll try to remember that," he said unenthusiastically. 

Stanley clapped her hands together. "All right, Harry, let's give it a go."

Harry took a deep breath. The _Prophet_ headline flashed through his mind: 'MINISTER OF MAGIC MURDERED! YOU-KNOW-WHO TO BLAME!' He tried to gather up the fear he had felt when he had read that, but found it harder than he thought it would be. It seemed that the fear preferred to stay in the middle of his chest and in the pit of his stomach rather than be directed by him. He took what he had and sent it down his wand arm. "_Stupefy_!" He felt a small jolt of energy leave his hand. Professor Stanley reeled, but didn't fall.

She beamed at him. "Very good, Harry! I really felt that. Try it again."

Harry did try it again. And again. And again. The more he tried, the less fear he was able to muster to make the spell work. "I'm sorry, Professor, but I guess I just don't feel frightened enough to make it work. Maybe if Voldemort was standing in front of me, I might be able to do it, but you're just not scary."

Stanley grinned. "Well, I think I can fix that." She closed her eyes and chanted, "_Pravus__ Malum Invado_!" When she opened them again, Harry jumped. Her eyes burned like black coals; all the warmth Harry was accustomed to seeing in them had disappeared. Professor Stanley had been completely transformed from the gentle, supportive teacher she had been just a moment ago into a being of pure malevolence. He could feel a palpable wave of evil emanating from her; it made him sick with fear. Stanley locked eyes with him and chuckled mockingly, "Scary enough for you now, Potter?"

Harry was too afraid to even nod. Then he saw her go for her wand. He gathered up the nauseating fright he felt, sent it down his right arm and out his hand. "_STUPEFY!_"

The Stunning Spell hit her square in the chest and she fell backward onto the pillows, unconscious. After a few seconds, Harry grabbed his wand from her desk and pointed it at her. "_Ennervate_!"

Professor Stanley immediately stirred and gazed up at him proudly. "Well done, Harry!" 

He was relieved to see that she was back to her old self, but found himself still shaking a little. "Whatever it was that you just did, do you mind not doing it ever again?"

***


	9. Breakdown

**Chapter Nine: Breakdown**

Snape rushed from Veronica's office, stopping by his room for a moment to pick up his mask and cloak. He wondered if he would be denied the anonymity of the Death Eater's mask as he had been last night and be forced to put a blindfold on again. Whatever happened, he swore that he would give Dumbledore every detail of his meetings with Voldemort from now on. His duty would come before everything else. Then for the fifth time in as many minutes, the bolt of lightening that had struck him in Veronica's office struck again.

_I love you. _

He stopped abruptly for just a second and sighed. _Why did she have to tell me that now? And why was he so disturbed by it? Veronica loved him as a friend—that was what she had said. True, no one had ever said that to him before, but he found himself wondering if she meant more by it. __Of course not, he told himself. __She isn't interested in a romantic relationship and, frankly, neither am I. If indeed that was true, why did the memory of her small and delicate hand grasping his under the table during the meeting refuse to leave his thoughts?_

Severus did his best to push the memory of Veronica's words and touch from his mind and raced across the snow-covered grounds, past the main gates. Thankfully, Wilmont's Auror hadn't arrived yet. He Disapparated and reappeared in Voldemort's audience chamber. One of Snape's primary objectives was to discover the location of Voldemort's new lair, but the Dark Lord was taking no chances, always Apparating his followers inside the dungeon of the ancient stone structure. Snape didn't even know if he was still in England.

It seemed Snape wasn't to be singled out today as he joined the group of several dozen wizards and witches. He casually looked around at the cloaked and masked shapes, recalling the names of the Death Eaters present at Voldemort's rebirth that Potter had given Dumbledore: _Crabbe__, Goyle…Severus spotted their immense forms immediately. The others were harder to identify; __Mcnair__, Nott, Avery…they could be any of the assembled. Snape thought he spotted Lucius Malfoy standing near the dais, his head held higher than any of the others. Many of the Death Eaters seemed anxious, as evidenced by much restless shuffling of feet. Snape wondered too if they would be called upon to wreak havoc once again so soon after the first attack._

Voldemort stood on the stone dais, a grotesque smile upon his lipless mouth, his red eyes glittering. Nagini, Voldemort's huge snake, reared up as if to strike, but was actually only pleading for attention from her Master. He stroked the reptile affectionately with his overlong, spider-like fingers as he waited for all of his followers to gather around him. Peter Pettigrew, Voldemort's current right-hand man, stood to one side of his Master, obviously not overjoyed to be so near Nagini. Snape had to chuckle when he thought of what a colossal letdown Pettigrew must be to the Dark Lord compared to Balin. Snape was disappointed to finally see Pettigrew alive with his own eyes because it reminded him of the fact that Sirius Black was not a criminal.

Voldemort regarded his Death Eaters approvingly. "'The Christmas Night Massacre' is what WWN and the _Daily Prophet has dubbed our triumphant attack. As pleased as I am with our success, it is nothing compared to what I have planned for the very near future. But that is not why I have gathered you all here. Today, a lesson must be learned; a lesson in the price of failure." Severus noticed that one Death Eater began to look about him frantically as if trying to locate an escape route. The others around him closed in, making escape impossible. "It took the cowardice of only one of you to taint an otherwise glorious night." Voldemort abruptly turned his red eyes on the guilty party. The Death Eater in question cowered, then fell to the floor and kissed the hem of Voldemort's robes. _

"Forgive me, My Lord, but when that Muggle fired that, that—gun of his, I was afraid that his neighbors would come running to his aid. I Disapparated so as not to jeopardize our mission." The man began to moan pathetically. "I will not fail you again, I swear it!"

Voldemort kicked the man away from him violently. "Because of you, Avery, two instead of three members of the Muggle Parliament are dead. You will not have an opportunity to fail me again." He turned to Pettigrew and a figure standing near him. "Wormtail, Isela, give him a Double." 

Avery jumped to his feet and turned to run, but Pettigrew grabbed his arm with his magical silver hand. Severus winced at the sound of the bones in Avery's arm being crushed. Severus knew that a 'Double' meant that they would both hit him with the Cruciatus Curse at the same time. Victims of the Double had been known to be literally ripped in two if the curse was applied long enough. When Isela brushed past him, Severus groaned. She had been the first woman he had ever had sex with and it was not one of his fondest memories. He hoped he'd be able to leave before she realized he was here. 

"Take him to the nearest cell," Voldemort ordered, "but leave the door open so we can all enjoy the screaming." Isela took Avery's other arm and helped Wormtail drag him to the next room. Severus heard Isela and Pettigrew cry, "_Crucio!" in unison, followed by Avery's blood-curdling screams._

The Dark Lord turned to the rest of the assembled and glared at each of them warningly. "I will never forget loyalty, but I will not tolerate failure. Even now, wizards and witches are flocking to my side, eager to serve me. Remember that none of you are indispensable. All of you can be replaced." His reprimand over, he smiled again, tilting his pale head slightly as he listened to Avery's piercing howls. Voldemort gazed at his followers in mild annoyance and waved his hand. "Leave me."

As a group, the Death Eaters bowed their heads and began to Disapparate. Severus was about to leave himself when Voldemort put his pale hand on his arm. "Not you." As soon as they were alone, he said, "Take off your mask, Severus."

Severus obeyed and pulled back his hood. His fear at meeting the same fate as Avery was dispelled by the almost fatherly smile the Dark Lord bestowed upon him. "My boy, you are the man of the hour. That poison of yours couldn't have worked out better. I want a dozen more doses, as soon as possible."

Severus inclined his head graciously. "Thank you, My Lord. I'll begin a new batch immediately, but because the new school term is about to start, it will be several weeks—"

"Not good enough Severus. You will have the poison for me in a fortnight," Voldemort ordered.

He nodded. "It will be done, My Lord."

"Tell me, how are Dumbledore and his cronies taking our little raid?"

Snape grinned maliciously. "Not well. You took them completely by surprise. Dumbledore met with his allies this morning. The meeting was nothing more than a bunch of hand-wringing and self-righteous rhetoric. All they can do is watch and wait for the next attack."

"And how is the Heir of Gryffindor?" Voldemort asked contemptuously.

Severus scowled. "Potter is alive and out of your reach as long as he's under Dumbledore's nose. He won't allow a repeat of last June."

Voldemort grimaced unpleasantly. "All that planning, all that trouble for naught."

"I could poison Potter for you, My Lord," he said with an eagerness that wasn't entirely feigned. If Snape even had the slightest notion that Voldemort would actually take him up on it, he wouldn't have made the offer. As distasteful as it was, Snape was bound by his duty to Dumbledore to protect Potter. 

As he expected, Voldemort shook his head. "Dumbledore would kill you before Potter hit the floor. No, Severus, I need you alive and I need to dispatch that boy myself, but thank you for the kind offer." Voldemort turned to listen to the gurgling moans coming from the next room that indicated Avery wouldn't last much longer. "Would you like to watch the coup de grace with me, Severus? No matter how many times I see it, I never tire of it."

Snape reluctantly accompanied Voldemort, but before they reached the open door, they heard a stomach-churning _rip, then silence as Isela and Wormtail emerged from the cell. Pettigrew, looking nearly as pale as his Master, was spattered with Avery's blood. Isela—now unmasked and as beautiful as ever—was flushed with the thrill of violent death. Her obvious use of magic to maintain her beauty was no surprise to Snape. Wormtail looked up at Voldemort apologetically. "I'm sorry, Master. He died much more quickly than we intended."_

Voldemort shrugged philosophically, apparently unwilling to let this minor disappointment spoil his good mood. "Never mind, Wormtail. There will be plenty of opportunities for more fun in the very near future. Nagini is hungry, but I need you to chop Avery into bite-size pieces before you feed him to her. I don't want the poor dear to get indigestion." Pettigrew turned slightly green, but nodded obediently as he reentered the cell.

"Remember Severus," Voldemort said, "have the poison ready in a fortnight or you'll be Nagini's next meal." With that, the Dark Lord disappeared into his audience chamber leaving Snape alone with Isela.

Isela smiled disdainfully at Snape. "Severus," she purred, "I see you have washed your hair—finally." 

He sneered, but remained silent, anxious to leave this place. Isela put one hand on his chest and ran the other over his left shoulder and arm. "You have filled out nicely, too, since last I saw you." Isela pressed her voluptuous body against his. "Do you not have a kiss for an old friend?" 

Severus was almost sickened by her touch. He wanted nothing to do with this harlot, but felt he had to do something to let her know he would not tolerate her mocking tone in the future. He grabbed her around the waist and gave her a long, deep kiss. 

When he withdrew, Isela gazed up at him lustfully, running her hands along his back. "You have improved immensely over the years."

Severus pushed her away roughly and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand "Pity you'll never know how much." With a derisive snort, he Disapparated.

*

Severus avoided Veronica all that next day, though she tried not to take it personally. He probably was in no mood to feel as if he had to explain himself to her once again. Though nothing would give her more joy than for Severus to give up his spying activities, Veronica couldn't help feeling guilty. Maybe she should just be there for him, instead of trying to ruin things. Why did she think she was wiser than both Severus and Dumbledore? Slytherins and Gryffindors tended to rule the wizarding world and for good reason. Hufflepuffs were sentimental fools whose lives revolved around hard work and the people they loved. It wasn't in their nature to see the 'big picture'. She would apologize to him tomorrow, pledge her unconditional support and promise not nag him to death as she had threatened to do yesterday.

Veronica spent the afternoon in her room working on her lesson plans for the new term. She would have to push her students even harder now given recent events. After several hours, she took a break and opened the package her mother had sent her that morning. It was filled with the Christmas gifts Veronica had been unable to take with her yesterday when she had left her parents' house in such a hurry. She put away the multi-colored winter scarf her mother had knitted her along with several pairs of new undergarments. Her sister-in-law, Charlotte, had made her a frivolously pretty blue robe Veronica just knew she'd never wear. Charlotte had winked at her when she opened it and said, "There must be at least one single wizard in that school who likes blue." Veronica had blushed furiously, but didn't comment. As a lark, she held it up to her and gazed at herself in the mirror. The thought, _I wonder if Severus likes blue, came to her unbidden. Angrily, she crumpled the robe into a ball and threw it in the bottom of her wardrobe. _

She had to get her feelings for Severus under control. Veronica had told him that she loved him as a friend, but she was increasingly fearful that wasn't the whole truth. She had also told him several times that she had no interest in being touched by a man ever again, but that wasn't true either—not now. Just then she heard a knock at the door. She furrowed her brow in anxiety. _Oh, Severus, come back tomorrow._

She opened the door, and as she expected, Severus was standing there. "You weren't at dinner," he said almost irritably.

Veronica glanced at her watch. It was after eight. "I was working. I must have lost track of time. I noticed you weren't at breakfast or lunch."

"I wasn't very hungry." He paused uncomfortably. "May I come in?"

"Oh, yes, please." She motioned him inside and they sat together on the sofa glancing everywhere except at each other. 

"So," Veronica said finally, "did things go, uh, well yesterday?"

"Well enough."

"Good," she replied, trying to sound encouraging. "Severus, I want to apologize for what I said yesterday—" He immediately got an apprehensive look on his face. Veronica wondered sadly if he thought she was going to take back what she had said about loving him. "About your spying activities," she explained quickly. "I know that what you're doing is vital to our cause and if I was really your friend I would support you, not judge you." 

After a bit of fidgeting, Severus clumsily took her hand. Veronica felt a sharp pleasure-pain in her heart. She tried not to let her delight show on her face. 

"I never felt like you were judging me," he said quietly. Severus was silent for several moments, struggling for the right words. "My parents were quite wealthy, but very distant. I never had friends growing up or at school. Dumbledore was the first person who ever saw anything worthwhile in me beyond my potion-making talent. I respect and admire him more than anyone I've ever known, but you are the first real friend I've ever had. I may object to your advice, I may not follow it, but I need for you to keep giving it. I need for you to object to what I'm doing—because I can't."

Veronica nodded as she tried her best to keep from crying, but a few stray tears ran down her cheeks. She embraced Severus and buried her face in his robes. Then she felt him put his comforting arms around her.

"I object," she said, "vehemently."

*

Veronica turned in early the evening before the first day of the new term. She stirred in the middle of the night when she felt something brushing up against her face. She swatted at whatever it was, but was startled to full wakefulness when someone grabbed her hand. "Who's there?" she cried, trying to pull her hand away. She then heard a familiar voice mumble a magic word and light a candle.

Lying next to her was a filthy old man in dirty rags with long, matted white hair and a beard to match. The soulless blue eyes staring down at her, though, were unmistakable. "Hello, my angel."

Veronica started to scream, but Balin put his hand over her mouth and straddled her to keep her still. She struggled violently and tried to recall just one of the hundreds of Defense Spells she had learned or created herself over the years, but none came to mind in her panic. Balin just grinned as his parasite-filled hair hung down, sweeping against hers. Veronica could see the lice jumping from his head and burrowing themselves in her curls. There was something about this that wasn't real. Balin could never have gotten into Hogwarts undetected. _This isn't happening, she told herself, __it's just a nightmare. She stopped struggling and he climbed off of her._

She jumped from the bed, putting as much distance as possible between them. "What do you want from me?"

Balin strolled casually toward her. "Just stopped by to say hello, on my way out the door."

There wasn't far for Veronica to go before her back was up against the wall. 

"You were always my favorite, Veronica," he leered. "I'll come for you soon, I promise you that. And then we can be together always—that is, until I decide to kill you."

"Severus won't let that happen," she blurted out more in an effort to convince herself than Balin.

"Severus?" Balin laughed heartily. Then he grabbed her arm and pulled Veronica in front of her full-length mirror. He stood behind her and slipped his arm around her waist. She felt an involuntary wave of pleasure in her stomach at his touch, as she sometimes had when she was a fifteen-year-old girl. She still hated herself for it, even more than she hated Balin. "You think he loves you? Just look at you. You're as small and ridiculous as you ever were. No man could ever want you."

"But you said I was beautiful." Balin had been the only man who had ever said so. "_You wanted me."_

"And I still do, my angel. But then I took the time to gaze upon your soul. Any other man wouldn't look at you long enough to see the beauty inside you. You should be grateful for the attention I lavish on you, but you're not—are you?" He held her so tightly against him, she could hardly breathe. He then took a fist-full of her hair and pulled it painfully back from her neck. "Playing with vampires, I see." He kissed, then bit into the two puncture scars on her neck that she had received while doing field work in Romania. Blood poured down her neck and chest. Veronica started to scream…

Veronica awoke with a cry. Her breathing was so rapid that she thought she might faint. She fumbled for her wand on her bedside table. "_Lumos!" She swept her wand in an arc to make sure she was truly alone, then lit a candle. There was no way she could sleep now. What did the nightmare mean, if it indeed meant anything at all? And what did Balin mean when he had said, __'Just stopped by to say hello, on my way out the door'? Had he escaped from Azkaban? With a trembling hand, Veronica turned on the wireless, stealing herself for the worst. All she heard on WWN was the Weird Sisters' latest hit. After listening to a few more songs, she began to breathe a little easier. She had almost drifted off to sleep, when the announcer broke in:_

_…The Ministry of Magic has just reported that there has been an escape from Azkaban fortress…_

Veronica bolted out of her room, still in her pajamas and barefoot. On her way to the dungeon, she almost ran into Mr. Filch. His cat, Mrs. Norris, barely avoided being trampled. Filch grabbed her by the arm, no doubt thinking she was a student out of bed. As soon as he recognized her, he let her go. Veronica clutched him by the front of his robes, almost causing Filch to drop his lantern. "He's out! You've got to tell Dumbledore!" She started to cry hysterically. "He said he was going to come after me. Oh gods, why didn't Dumbledore kill him when he had the chance?"

"Who's out from where?" Filch asked in confusion as he tried to pry her off of him. "What are you going on about, Professor?"

"Professor Balin's escaped from Azkaban!" she shrieked. "They just announced it on WWN!"

Filch went pale. "I'll tell the Headmaster straight away."

Veronica left Filch to his task and raced to the dungeon. 

*

Severus was awakened by frantic banging on his door. Disorientation was quickly replaced with thoughts of what evil things he would do to the person who had the audacity to wake him up at— he waved his hand in front of the clock by his bed, illuminating it briefly. "_Three o'clock__ in the morning?!"_

He climbed out of bed, wrenched open the door in his gray nightshirt and was almost tackled by Veronica who clung to him tightly. "Balin's escaped, Severus!" she sobbed uncontrollably. "He's going to come for me, he told me he would!" Severus gently disengaged himself and led her to the armchair by the fire. It took him some time before he could extract a coherent answer out of her. She told him that she had had a dream about Balin, then repeated the report she had heard on WWN. Severus was certain she just had a nightmare, but immediately went to his own wireless and turned it on. 

_…Ministry officials are denying reports that Balin escaped with the aid of two dementors, but a wizard guard injured in the escape observed the prisoner leaving the fortress with a pair of the creatures who are supposed to prevent such occurrences…_

Severus turned it off when he saw how much more upset it made Veronica. _How could this have happened? "We have to tell Dumbledore."_

"I ran into Filch on my way here, he's telling him now. Why didn't Dumbledore kill him? He could have done it. He could have stopped him." She started to rock back and forth in distress. "He's going to come for me. He said he would come for me!"

Severus had never seen Veronica so distraught, even when she had shown him the memories of her abuse at Balin's hands in her Pensieve. The only experience he had had with hysterical females was the occasional student, but he invariably sent them to the hospital wing to let Madam Pomfrey deal with them. _Should I send her to Poppy? As tempting a solution as that was, he knew he had to do his best by her. _

"I have a potion that might help you," Severus told her. "I'll be right back." Veronica was loathe to let him out of her sight, so he allowed her to follow him into his Potions lab. He quickly whipped up a concoction for her. He needed to know the details of her dream and wouldn't get them in the current state she was in. "Take this, I promise it will help."

She drank it, and then asked, "What was that?"

"Not-a-Care Elixir. In a few moments, you literally won't care that he's escaped. Then you can tell me about that dream of yours." The elixir seemed innocuous enough on the surface, but it caused a person to temporarily lose all fear and common sense. He had heard of a wizard who under its influence, had walked into the middle of a busy London street so he could get a better look at those horrid Muggle contraptions called motorcars. 

Severus led her back to his room and sat her down on the sofa. He settled next to her and waited for the potion to take affect. In less than five minutes, he saw all the panic leave Veronica's face. Then she just smiled at him pleasantly. "I like this potion."

"I thought you might," Severus replied. "Now, Veronica, tell me about this dream you had."

"Well, I woke up and he was lying next to me, but I was really still asleep." Veronica giggled. Then she related a disgusting tale of Balin jumping on top of her followed by his lice "After that, he said he would come for me, but I said you wouldn't let him—"

"I won't let him hurt you, I swear it," he assured her in spite of the fact that, at the moment, she didn't care whether he would or not.

An expression of pure bliss suddenly crossed Veronica's face. "I love you so much, Severus," she declared, throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him rather ardently on the lips.

Severus was momentarily taken aback and almost responded, _I love you, too, Veronica, but instead disengaged himself and took her hands in his. He gazed into her eyes in an attempt to refocus her attention. "What else did Balin say?"_

She shrugged. "Just what he always used to say."

"What's that?"

"Oh, that I'm not pretty and that no one but him would ever want me and that I should be grateful for his attention. And then he yanked my hair very hard and held me too tight and bit me on the neck. I wonder if I have bruises?" She pulled up her pajama top, exposing her stomach so she could happily examine herself for marks. "Rupert—that's what he liked for me to call him—always used to give me bruises when he held me too tight." Severus pulled her top down quickly. Veronica just continued to grin, not a care in the world.

He had to take several deep breaths to calm himself. Though he expected no less from that son of a bitch, to hear her repeat his lies made him almost angry enough to go out now and hunt Balin down himself. The worst of it was that he was sure Veronica believed every word and had believed it since she was a girl. _Was her belief that she was unworthy of a decent man's attention the real reason she had avoided romantic entanglements? "Did he say anything else? Did he say where he was going?"_

Veronica shook her head. "He just said that he would come for me because I was his favorite." 

"Hogwarts would be the last place he'd run to," Severus told her, particularly alarmed by the last thing she said. "He'll go to Voldemort, you know that."

She didn't seem to have heard him, more interested in stroking his hair. He took her hands again and led her to his bed. Right now, he needed to speak to Dumbledore and Veronica needed to sleep off the rest of the effects of the Not-a-Care Elixir. He tucked her in and made sure there was nothing in his room that could pose a danger to her in her present condition. Then Severus threw on a robe, locked his door after him and made for Dumbledore's office.

*

Severus returned to his room an hour later, relieved to find Veronica sleeping peacefully. She would be furious when he told her about his meeting with Dumbledore, but for now he was grateful she could enjoy a few hours rest before cold reality set in once again. He pulled an extra pillow and blanket out of a trunk and lay down on the sofa. 

After a couple of hours of fitful sleep, Severus rose and quietly readied himself. He then placed his hand lightly on her shoulder. "Veronica, wake up." He knew the potion had worn off when he saw the terror immediately return to her eyes. 

"It's all right," he said, "the Ministry is setting up extra security around the school. There's no way he can get to you here. Now, you need to go to your room so you can get dressed. It's almost time for breakfast."

"I think I'll just stay here," Veronica told him as she tucked the bed clothes up to her chin. "I feel safe here."

He could tell she was only being half-serious, so he decided to play along if for no reason than to cheer her up a bit. "And just how long were you planning on occupying my bed?" 

She almost smiled. "Until they capture him?"

"In the meantime, where am I supposed to sleep?"

"Well, that sofa looks awfully comfortable."

"Trust me, it isn't." With a grin, Severus managed to wrench the covers out of her hand and coax her to her feet. He accompanied Veronica to her room at her urging. He sat down by the fire as she got ready in the bathroom. While he waited, a thought occurred to him. "Veronica, is your Mark burning?"

"It always burns a little," she replied as she emerged from the bathroom, fully dressed. "I've sort of gotten used to it."

Severus couldn't imagine ever getting used to the burning on his left arm. "May I see it?"

Veronica unbuttoned the top three buttons of her yellow robes and pulled back the fabric, revealing her Mark. It looked the same—just a shadowy outline, as if the evil didn't want to stick to her. 

"The Mark hasn't changed," Severus said as he lightly brushed his fingers against it, "but it may be why you knew about his escape. Unfortunately, it does bind him to you."

Veronica unexpectedly took his hand and placed it fully over her Mark. "It doesn't burn when you touch it." Then she looked up at him in a way she never had before—longingly, desperately, seductively. Severus realized that she wasn't looking at him like a grown woman letting a man know she wanted him, but like a fifteen-year-old girl acting out. 

She started running her fingertips over his hand and forearm. "Why don't we just skip breakfast?"

Severus gently pulled away and buttoned up her robe. "Come on, you need to eat something." It wasn't that he didn't want her, he just didn't want her like this.

Veronica turned away in shame, obviously misinterpreting his refusal. Severus wanted to say something to reassure her, but remained silent for fear that he would just make things worse. 

*

Veronica followed Severus to the Great Hall for breakfast, careful to avoid his eyes.  How could she have done something so incredibly stupid as to make a sexual advance toward her best friend? True, she had kissed him under the influence of the Not-a-Care Elixir, but they both understood that it was the potion that had made her do it. That was the not case in this instance. How could she have believed for a moment that he would want to make love to her? _Balin's__ right, I am __small and ridiculous. She just hoped her foolish behavior wouldn't permanently damage their friendship._

Dumbledore approached them before they reached the teacher's entrance to the Great Hall. The Headmaster regarded her gravely causing Veronica to wonder apprehensively what else had happened.

"I wanted to let you know that your dear parents are well," Dumbledore told her. "I was quite impressed with the wards you constructed around their house. They should be safe there, but I told them they are to come to Hogwarts immediately at the first sign of any danger."

"What are you talking about?" Veronica asked in confusion.

Dumbledore turned to Severus. "You didn't tell her?"

"I haven't had a chance," he replied tersely. 

"Veronica," began Dumbledore, "I had no choice but to speak to your parents this morning after Severus told me that Balin had threatened their lives in the past and that they knew nothing about what had happened to you when you were a student here."

"How dare you!" she cried angrily. "You had no right!" 

"Perhaps not," Dumbledore replied, "but I felt I had a responsibility—" 

"_Now you decide to interfere with my life?!" she said, almost yelling._

"Veronica, lower your voice," Severus entreated.

She ignored him and continued to scream at Dumbledore. "But when I really needed you, you couldn't be bothered! In future, stay the hell away from my family!" 

Veronica was too irate to be embarrassed when she noticed several teachers who were also on their way to breakfast, stare at her in disbelief. She took her seat at the staff table, but didn't touch her food. Severus looked both uncomfortable and annoyed at her outburst, but he made certain to intercept her copy of the _Daily Prophet and stuff his own copy in his robe pocket instead of reading it as was his habit. He did give her the letter that her parents had sent her, but she couldn't bear to read it now. Severus was trying so hard to protect her, but all she seemed capable of doing was act like a raving lunatic. How long would it be before he tired of it—and of her?_

Despite his best efforts, Severus couldn't prevent her from hearing the entire school buzz about the latest escape from Azkaban. She heard Professor Sprout tell Professor Sinistra, "I'm so glad the Ministry is sending Aurors instead of dementors to guard the school this time."

"Haven't you heard?" said Sinistra. "It was two dementors that let him out in the first place. Can you believe it?"

_So they were sending Aurors to guard the school? Veronica had no doubt that the increased security measures had nothing to do with her or Balin's nightmare promise to come after her. She looked up from her untouched meal and glared at Harry Potter, who was talking excitedly with his friends at the Gryffindor table. It was because of him that the Ministry and Dumbledore cared so much, she thought resentfully, her heart filling with hate not only for Balin and Dumbledore, but for Harry as well._

The boy must have sensed her watching him, because he suddenly turned and met her eyes. Veronica looked away, ashamed that all of her training, all of her compassion and dedication deserted her just when she needed it the most.

*

Harry knew that there was something terribly wrong with Professor Stanley even before his first Defense Against the Dark Arts class of the new term. He and his friends settled in their seats, the Death Eater's escape from Azkaban still the only topic of conversation. Professor Stanley stood at the front of the classroom, but her kind face was pale and drawn like she hadn't slept all night; her usually reassuring voice seemed strained. Harry had heard a rumor that she had actually _yelled at Dumbledore this morning. And then there was the disturbing way she had looked at him at breakfast. Something about the sudden change in her made him feel very afraid. __Did it have something to do with Balin's escape?_

As soon as the bell rang, a half-dozen students raised their hands in the air, including Ron and Hermione.

"If you'll all turn to Chapter Eighteen, _Advanced Shielding—" Stanley began shakily._

But no one was listening. Instead, they started firing questions at her:

"How did Balin get dementors to help him escape?"

"Can he get past Aurors, too?"

"Was he teaching here when you were a student?"

"Is he really as bad as the _Prophet says?" _

"That's enough!" Stanley snapped, her voice trembling with fear. "_THAT'S ENOUGH!" She rushed through the classroom and snatched every copy of the __Daily Prophet she saw out of her students' hands, then frantically ripped the papers to shreds. Then the woman who had successfully taken on both Professor Snape and Lucius Malfoy began to sob, covering her face with her hands. She rushed out into the corridor, the sound of her inconsolable crying invading the silence of the classroom._

Harry, Ron, Hermione, Neville and the other students sat in their chairs, dumbfounded, as they stared out into the hall in disbelief. 

"We should call someone," Hermione said quietly. "Perhaps Professor Snape?"

No one relished the idea of interrupting Snape's class for any reason, so no volunteers were forthcoming. 

It was now clear to Harry that this Professor Balin must have done something to her, perhaps when she was his student. Harry slowly rose from his seat and crept into the corridor. Stanley was sitting on the cold stone floor, her back against the wall. He approached her cautiously and sat down next to her.

"Professor, would you like to go to the hospital wing?" Harry asked as gently as he could.

Stanley nodded then looked up at him with a haunted expression in her eyes that made him shudder. "Don't let him catch you, Harry. Voldemort might want to kill you, but Balin will make you wish you were dead." 

Harry shoved down the fear he felt as he took Professor Stanley by the arm and helped the suddenly fragile woman to her feet. _Just when I thought things couldn't get any worse…_

*

Miss Granger had timidly approached Snape during Potions class to tell him that Veronica had apparently fallen apart in their class and had to be taken to the hospital wing. He appreciated the fact that she whispered, obviously trying to prevent the Slytherins from hearing. _They'll find out soon enough, he thought grimly._

"I think she's just having a very bad day," Granger had said, trying to sound reassuring. 

Snape just grunted in response, but thought to himself, _That, Miss Granger, is the understatement of the century._

After his last class, Severus went to visit Veronica. Neville Longbottom passed him just as he entered the hospital wing, almost daring to give Snape a defiant glare. _Don't tell me I'm__ being blamed for Veronica's breakdown?!_

Madam Pomfrey met him a second later. At least she seemed glad to see him. 

"Professor Stanley is fine to go back to her room, but she won't leave." Poppy led him to her bedside, and then left the pair alone. 

A bouquet of roses sat on the table next to Veronica's bed. "Where did those come from?" Severus asked.

"They're from Neville," she told him. "He has a bit of a crush on me."

Snape tried to ignore the incomprehensible flash of jealousy that came over him. At least that explained the nasty look the boy had almost given him. "Once again, Mr. Longbottom is making me look bad."

Veronica took his hand and squeezed it, but let go of it quickly. "Oh, Severus, you've been such a dear all day and all I've done is make a complete ass of myself."

"I seem to remember someone saying it was good to do that every once in a while."

She grinned slightly. "That only applies when it's happening to you."

"Oh, I see. We can dish the humiliation out, but we can't take it?"

She let out a small laugh, but Severus was afraid she was about to cry

He didn't know how far he should push her today, but something told him that she didn't need more coddling right now. He held out his hand for her. "Come along, Veronica, you've worn out your welcome here."

"I don't want to go back to my room," she said as she pulled the covers up to her chin, much like she had this morning… 

_When she was in my bed. _

It would have been so easy, not to mention tempting, to let her stay in his room tonight, but he didn't want to let anything happen that they—that she—would regret later. "You have to go back to your room sometime, so stop acting like a child and get out of that bed." His stern tone of voice had the desired effect, at least in part. She threw the covers back and climbed out of the hospital bed, but she glowered at him, obviously hurt by his apparent lack of sympathy.

She quickly put on her shoes and grabbed her bouquet of flowers. Then they walked back to her room in silence.

When they got to her door, Veronica turned to him and said, "I've decided to resign."

Severus rolled his eyes as he opened her door and gently pushed her inside. "Veronica, you're in no state to be deciding anything of the kind right now."

She put the flowers on her dresser. "How can I face my students after my little mental collapse today?"

"Tell them the truth—at least enough to make them understand. The incident will soon be all over the school, if it isn't already. People will jump to their own conclusions if you don't explain yourself."

She seemed grateful for the suggestion, but there was obviously something more that was bothering her. "What about Dumbledore?" 

"He won't sack you, if that's what you're worried about, but I would like to see you make peace with him, for your sake as well as his—and mine." She still hadn't brought up the issue Severus was certain was troubling her most of all, besides Balin's escape, of course. "About this morning—"

Veronica covered her ears with her hands. "Severus, please don't—"

He pried her hands away from her ears and took her by the shoulders. "It wasn't that I didn't want you, but if I had taken advantage of you this morning, I would have been as despicable as Balin."

She looked up at him, incredulous. "You want me?"

"Yes," he said, stroking her hair softly, "very much."

Veronica pulled away from him. "How can you? Just look at me!"

Severus reached for her again. He pulled her to the sofa and made her sit. He took her chin in his hand and gazed into warm brown eyes. "Stop believing his lies, Veronica. The only truth he ever told you was when he said you were beautiful."

She snorted. "On the inside, right? I am so sick of being beautiful on the inside, Severus! Do you even know what it feels like to be homely?"

"As a matter of fact I do, thanks so much for asking!" He sighed in irritation. That wasn't what he had wanted to say. "You're not homely, Veronica. The more I look at you, the prettier you become. That's in spite of that fact that you do your best to make yourself look as unattractive as possible. Has anyone ever told you that yellow is definitely not your color?"

Veronica broke out in a grin. "My mother tells me that all the time." She paused and blushed. "I don't think you're homely either. In fact, I think you're..." she lowered her voice to a barely audible whisper, "terribly sexy."

Severus looked at Veronica in surprise for a moment. Then he lightly stroked her cheek as his face inched closer to hers. He tenderly pressed his lips against hers and very gently wrapped his arms around her waist. He was afraid that at any second, Veronica would pull away and retreat back into herself once again. He was careful not to hold her so tightly so that if she did want to pull away she could do so easily.

But she didn't pull away. Veronica put her arms around his neck and started timidly running one of her hands through his shoulder-length black hair. The feelings Severus had been holding at bay for weeks now came rushing to the surface. _I love you, Veronica flashed through his mind. Before he lost himself in the moment he withdrew slightly, but still kept one arm around her waist as he softly pulled back a few of her unruly curly locks from her face. _

Even though he had withdrawn she still had her eyes closed, a contented smile upon her face. It looked as if she was trying to hold onto the memory of his kiss. After a few moments she opened them again. "Was that a one-time only event or can I expect another sometime in the hopefully near future?"

He placed another light kiss on her lips. "You're making my life completely impossible, you know that?"

"I'm sorry," she replied guiltily. 

He smiled wryly as he took her in his arms again, this time pulling her close. "No you're not."

***


	10. The Ex-Prisoner of Azkaban

**Chapter Ten: The Ex-Prisoner of Azkaban**

The next morning at breakfast, Harry noticed Ron staring at Professor Stanley, and he wasn't the only one.

Stanley looked different—quite pretty, actually. Her usually wild curls had been tamed somewhat and pulled back in a simple, but attractive style, held in place by clips that looked like fairy wings. She was wearing an appealing blue robe instead of the blindingly-bright yellow one she usually wore. It was hard to tell from where he was sitting, but Harry thought she was even wearing a bit of makeup.

"I never noticed before, but Stanley's sort of good-looking," Ron said, a forkful of eggs suspended a few inches from his mouth.

"_I noticed," Neville said irritably._

Ron ignored him. "Why don't you do your hair like that, Hermione?"

"Why don't you dry up, Ron, and eat your breakfast," Hermione snapped. "It's not polite to stare. Besides, she didn't do it for your benefit."

"Where is Ol' Slimeball anyway?" Ron asked, noticing that Professor Snape had not yet arrived. Harry knew Ron had never forgiven Snape for washing his hair, thus robbing him of a prime source of insults.

Neville shot Ron a nasty look and mumbled, "I still say he doesn't deserve her."

Hermione glowered at them both with disgust. "I didn't mean to imply that she did it for Snape, I meant that she probably did it to raise her spirits after yesterday. Professor Stanley doesn't strike me as the sort of woman who would dress for a man." She said it in such a way as to indicate that she wasn't that sort of woman either. 

Harry waited for Ron to make some snide comment about Hermione dolling herself up for Viktor Krum for the Yule Ball the previous year, but he just rolled his eyes and went back to eating his breakfast.

Harry remained quiet on the subject as he studied the copy of yesterday's _Daily Prophet he had found lying in the Gryffindor common room last night. He gazed at the old picture of Professor Balin grinning devilishly. _

_"Don't let him catch you, Harry," Stanley had said with a look he wouldn't soon forget.__ "Voldemort might want to kill you, but Balin will make you wish you were dead."_

He read the list of crimes that this man—the worst of Voldemort's Death Eaters (according to the _Prophet, at least)—had been convicted of before Harry was even born: rape, torture, mutilation, and murder of dozens of Muggles and wizarding folk, __including children! Harry glanced at Professor Stanley, feeling both angry and sickened at the thought of what Balin must have done to her to make her so distraught yesterday. _

Harry silently prayed to any gods who happened to be listening that he wouldn't be Balin's next victim.

*

Draco Malfoy hoped he could finish eating before his Head of House took his place at the teacher's table. Just the thought of Snape gazing upon his beloved in her transformed state made him want to heave. He snorted. That ugly little witch would need more than a new hairstyle and a cheap robe to make her even marginally attractive.

_When was Father going to do something about them? Draco had owled his father about Stanley's breakdown yesterday just as he had any bit of information that he thought could be used against her and Snape. He just knew her collapse had something to do with Professor Balin's escape. He smiled wickedly. Whatever it was that Balin had done to her, Draco approved._

*

Snape had been up early that morning, working on Voldemort's poison so he'd be sure to have it finished before the fortnight deadline. He had been so preoccupied with his task that breakfast was half over before he realized the time. For a second after he entered the Great Hall, he thought a strange woman in blue had taken Veronica's seat.

"Veronica, what have you done to yourself?" _Oh, that was bloody brilliant. _

She blushed uncomfortably. "I look ridiculous, don't I?"

Severus found himself making plans to steer her into an empty corridor for a quick kiss before their first class as he took his seat. "You look…wonderful."

Her face flushed scarlet, but she seemed pleased. "I owled Rosmerta—you know, from the Three Broomsticks—after you left last night. The poor thing dragged herself out of bed early this morning to help me with all this. It took over an hour, though she swears that with practice I'll have it down to twenty minutes."

Another compliment stuck in his throat as an uncomfortable thought occurred to him. "Veronica, you didn't have to do this for me."

Her expression quickly became self-conscious. "I-I didn't do it for you." She laughed nervously. "I just thought I'd do it for a lark, you know, just to see how I'd turn out." Veronica then took a sudden interest in her orange slices.

_Damn! I should have never said anything about her appearance last night. What business did he have giving anyone fashion advice? Again, Severus was at a loss at what to say to smooth things over. Soon, he noticed Veronica's face holding the same anxious look it did yesterday morning. Being supportive and reassuring was not in his nature, so he decided to handle the situation in the only way he knew how. He leaned over slightly and whispered firmly in her ear, "Stop it."_

Veronica looked up from her plate and sighed. "Stop what?"

"I'll not have a repeat of yesterday, Veronica." Severus smirked. "You've had your breakdown for the year. I'm afraid you'll have to wait until next January for another." When she broke out into a small smile, he added, "It doesn't matter why you did it. What matters is that you proved him wrong, once and for all."

He was gratified to see the tension leave her face, at least temporarily. A moment later, when the owls bearing the morning post filled the Great Hall, Severus saw Veronica put down her fork and grip the edge of the table. Along with their rolled-up copies of the _Daily Prophet was another letter from her parents. This time the owl that delivered it perched itself on the back of her chair and hovered over her, obviously waiting for a response._

Veronica handed the hungry owl a strip of bacon off the platter on the table, but did not open her letter. Instead, she turned to him. Severus had only half unrolled his copy of the paper, unsure as to whether he should read it in her presence or not.

"It's all right," she told him. "We need to know what he's up to."

Severus scanned the front page. "He's been spotted in the French countryside, but he was able to evade the Aurors. At least he's not in England." But the fact that Balin was on the continent did little to relieve her anxiety. 

The owl behind her flapped its wings impatiently. Veronica sighed in resignation and opened the letter from her parents. Severus read it over her shoulder…

_Dear Vee,_

_We're out of minds with worry, sweetheart, as you can probably imagine after Professor Dumbledore's visit yesterday morning. Even more so now that we didn't receive a reply to our last letter. What that horrid man did to you was not your fault! You have no reason to be embarrassed or ashamed, especially with your own family._

_Dumbledore told us that you have a dear friend who has helped you through this, which we're very grateful for, but you should have the support of your family as well. We need to see you. We need to know that you're all right. Please say you'll come to dinner this Saturday and bring your friend if that would make it easier for you._

_This owl is under strict orders not to leave your side until he receives an answer, so send your reply directly. We love you and want to help. Please don't push us away._

_Love,_

_Mum and Dad_

_PS. Please don't be cross with Professor Dumbledore, he did the right thing by telling us._

It was strange for Severus to read such a heartfelt letter, never having received one himself. What he couldn't fathom was why Veronica would be reluctant to accept the support of two people who obviously loved her very much.

She sat quietly for a few moments, then asked, "So, will you come with me?"

He hesitated. "I don't like the idea of you leaving the castle. Besides, I don't see how my presence will help matters."

"Please come with me, Severus, just for a few hours." Veronica forced a smile. "You'll give them something else to stare at besides me."

Severus snorted. "When you put it that way, how can I refuse?"

*

Yesterday, Severus had been Veronica's main source of comfort and safety. Today, he made her palms sweat. When he guided her away from the throng of students and into an empty corridor for a kiss, she found herself wishing they could go back to being just friends. It wasn't that she didn't care for him or his kisses—it frightened her to think of how much she wanted him. Perhaps that was the reason she wanted to take a step back. Or maybe it was just that the added stress of this new aspect of their relationship was more than she could handle right now. In any event, he'd made it clear he wouldn't tolerate any more histrionics, so she decided to make the best of it. But how long would Severus be satisfied with just kissing?

Veronica had her back to the wall, her heart pounding in her chest. Severus was leaning toward her with his hand placed above her, making her feel a little claustrophobic. She didn't dare let it show on her face. 

"I'm afraid I have…extra work to do this week," he told her, lightly fingering her fairy-wing hair clip. "So I won't be able to spend much time with you."

By the tone and inflection of his words, Veronica knew the extra work was for Voldemort. She used the opportunity to let some of the anxiety she felt for their relationship show through, knowing it would be misinterpreted. Then she smiled understandingly. "Severus, I've never expected you to explain to me how you spend your time and I don't expect it now after a few kisses. You'll see me when you can, I know that. In fact, I'll understand if you can't make it Saturday."

"If I can't make it Saturday, you won't be going either," he said sternly. "You're not to leave the castle by yourself."

She waved away his concern. "Now that I've had some time to think about the dream, I think we're both blowing it out of proportion. Balin will make contact with Voldemort soon, if he hasn't already. If he does come to Hogwarts, he'll come for Harry Potter, not me."

The relief she saw on his face was understandable, the resentment she once again felt towards Harry was not. They parted only right before the first bell rang. 

Trying to maintain her normally positive outlook was almost impossible given the circumstances, but Veronica tried to at least appear cheerful to the outside world. Her new look certainly helped towards that purpose. From what she could gather from the bits of gossip that reached her ears, people had guessed at least part of the truth—that she had suffered at Balin's hands, but no one was interested in the details. They just expected her to act as if everything was all right now, but it wasn't. This Saturday, she would be forced to put on another show for her parents. Why had she asked Severus along? 

At least Balin wasn't in England, but then, he _had stolen a wand from one of Azkaban's wizard guards. It was possible that he could be Apparating all over the world with his two dementors just to throw off the Aurors. He could be at Hogwarts main gates in the blink of an eye, but that wasn't very likely, even if he knew she was here. __Admit it, you're just not that important. Veronica didn't understand these feelings she had—feelings she could never tell anyone about. A little part of her wanted Balin to come for her. She had been special to him and if there was any truth to the dream she'd had, she still was. She was the only one he had ever burned with the Dark Mark. And he was the only person that Veronica didn't have to pretend with. Balin never demanded that she be cheerful or act like she felt anything other than what she truly felt._

Two days later, Veronica had to face the fifth-year Gryffindors again. She had thought long and hard about what she should say to explain her behavior the other day, but couldn't bring herself to do it. They knew, like everyone at Hogwarts knew. What good would it do to give them more details? So, she did her best to pretend as if nothing had happened at all. Thankfully, the students respected her unspoken wishes. 

That is, except for Harry Potter. As the students filed out after class, Harry hung back. The boy wanted answers and who could blame him? Veronica had very likely frightened him half to death with her cryptic warning about Balin.

"Run along now, Harry," she said just as the boy started to speak, hiding the resentment she felt beneath a bright smile. "You don't want Professor Snape giving you detention for tardiness, especially since I know you have Quidditch practice after school today."

Harry frowned in disappointment, then nodded. "Sure Professor, it wasn't important anyway."

*

Even though Severus had told Veronica he would be busy for the remainder of the week doing work for Voldemort, he was oddly concerned by the fact that besides mealtimes, he didn't see her at all. And when he did see her, she seemed a bit too cheerful given the fact that Balin was still on the loose. Unfortunately, his concerns about Veronica would have to wait if he hoped to finish Voldemort's poison before the deadline.

All of his duties suffered. He was even forced to grade his students' homework unread. His Slytherins, particularly the sons and daughters of Death Eaters, received top marks; Gryffindors received bottom marks—all except for Granger. Severus gave that irksome overachiever her usual passing grade just to keep the girl quiet.

When the deadline came and Voldemort didn't call him, Severus began to get a little nervous. Was Voldemort waiting to see what Balin would do? The fugitive had been spotted all over Europe, one step ahead of the Aurors. What worried Snape the most was that he was leaving no dead bodies in his wake. What was Balin waiting for?

*

Late Saturday afternoon, Severus met Veronica in her office before they left for her parents' house. She looked as pretty as he had ever seen her. She had on her flattering blue robe and her hair was done up in an attractive bun, a wisp of curls framing either side of her face. This was the first time they had been alone for days, so naturally he took the opportunity to kiss her. The kiss itself was the most passionate they had ever shared, but her body felt tense in his arms. _Perhaps it has to do with my meeting her parents tonight? The thought had occurred to him that a set of Hufflepuff parents might not be too thrilled at the notion of their daughter keeping company with the Head of Slytherin House—especially given their daughter's past history._

"I promise I won't embarrass you tonight," he said with a wry grin.

Veronica smiled, seeming to be her cheerful self. "Oh, dear, I was rather looking forward to a bit of drama. I had visions of my father challenging you to a duel and you turning him into a frog." At his apprehensive look, she laughed. "Severus, they're Hufflepuffs! You will be an honored guest in their home. You'll be lucky if my mother doesn't adopt you before the night's out."

Veronica showed no signs of anxiety as she and Severus left the safety of Hogwarts, but the officious Auror at the gate questioned them at length about where they were going and when they expected to return. Even though as a professor, Severus could come and go as he pleased, it did worry him for the next time Voldemort did call him.

They Disapparated and reappeared a short distance from a tiny cottage at the end of an unpaved lane. Hogwarts snow was replaced by Manchester wind and rain. They both quickly pulled up the hoods of their cloaks, and Severus logically hurried toward the shelter of her parents' home. 

Just as Severus heard Veronica call his name in alarm, he felt it—the sensation of dozens of razor-sharp daggers piercing his flesh. _The damned wards! He tried to retreat from the invisible daggers, but his feet were frozen in place. His breathing became rapid and shallow as perspiration started beading on his forehead. He tried to yell, 'I'm going to get you for this, woman!', but it came out as a strangled and decidedly unmanly cry._

"Dad! Lower the wards, it's us!" Veronica yelled. 

A short, older man in gray robes rushed from the house. "Oh, dear!" With a word and a wave of his wand, Mr. Stanley lowered the protective barrier. Severus found himself suddenly falling forward; Mr. Stanley rushed to his side. He and Veronica caught Snape's arms as his knees started to buckle. Severus was thankful for the fact that he didn't fall face first into the mud, but managed to regain his balance with their help.

They were joined at the door by a woman who looked like an older version of Veronica. She was wearing an apron over her plain brown robes. She joined her daughter and husband in helping Severus into the humbly furnished sitting room and onto the faded but comfortable armchair by the fire. 

"I'll get some tea," Mrs. Stanley said, rushing to the kitchen. In the meantime, Severus patted his chest, checking for holes.

"Don't worry," Veronica said, "there's no permanent damage."

"Mighty impressive bit of magic, eh?" Mr. Stanley said as he pointed out the door. Then he put a loving arm around his daughter's shoulder. "My clever little girl came up with that."

Veronica blushed. "Dad, please."

Severus was only now beginning to feel his strength returning. "Very impressive, indeed." He was again reminded that underneath Veronica's small and delicate frame, beat the heart of an extremely powerful witch. "I wonder why Dumbledore doesn't use it around Hogwarts." 

Veronica shook her head. "It's only good for small residences, I'm afraid." 

Just then, her mother entered with a tea tray and Veronica proceeded with the introductions. She not only told them that Severus was Hogwarts' Potions Master, but that he was also the Head of Slytherin House.

Severus waited for the look of disapproval he thought sure would come, but instead Mr. Stanley took his hand and shook it vigorously. 

"So, you're Vee's friend Professor Dumbledore was telling us about," her father said in the friendliest voice Severus had ever heard. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you." Mrs. Stanley regarded him just as warmly as she handed him a teacup and the largest of the scones off the tray.

Severus mostly listened while Veronica chatted pleasantly with her parents. They were both pleased at the change in her appearance, but they also voiced their concerns for her well-being. Veronica smiled brightly as she assured them that she was "just fine", then quickly changed the subject. She didn't ask about Dumbledore's visit and her parents seemed reluctant to bring it up as well. After a half hour's worth of small talk, Severus noticed Mr. Stanley give his wife a significant look behind his daughter's back. 

Mrs. Stanley immediately rose and took Veronica by the hand. "Come help me in the kitchen, sweetheart. It'll give your dad and Professor Snape a chance to get better acquainted."  

For the first time since they had arrived, Veronica glanced at Severus anxiously. He nodded his head slightly to let her know it would be all right as her mother led her out of the room. As soon as the women were out of earshot, Mr. Stanley shook his head with worry. He looked at Severus with such honesty and straightforwardness, he reminded him a little of Dumbledore. "How is she?"

Severus sighed. "A little too damned cheerful, under the circumstances."

"That's our Vee," he replied in frustration. Mr. Stanley paused for several moments as he glanced down at his hands. "This…creature that hurt my little girl—do you think he'll come after her again?"

As much as Severus wanted to assure him that his daughter was perfectly safe, he already had too much respect for Mr. Stanley to lie to him. "I honestly don't know, sir, but I believe it's more likely he'll return to Vol—You-Know-Who, rather than come to Hogwarts."

"It's all right, Professor," Mr. Stanley said with a smile, "You can say—V-voldemort. I can almost say it without tripping over it myself." He paused again. "Did you know him?"

Severus regarded him with shock. _What did Dumbledore tell him? "Voldemort?!" _

"Goodness, no, Professor!" said Mr. Stanley, almost amused. "The _other one." His expression suddenly turned angry. "His name I can't say, I'm afraid."_

Severus nodded. "He was my Head of House."

"Why?" Mr. Stanley asked plaintively. "Why would he hurt her, of all people? She's the sweetest girl you're ever likely to meet. Never hurt a soul in her life."

Severus hesitated, but once again decided that this man deserved to know the truth. "I believe that's exactly why he chose her. He enjoyed inflicting pain on innocent people." He looked Mr. Stanley in the eye. "As I said, I don't know if he'll come for her or not, but I will tell you that I'll protect her with my life."

"I'll be honest, Professor, I've never had much use for Slytherins, but Dumbledore spoke so very highly of you. He trusts you and so does Vee. I can see it in the way she looks at you." He held out his hand again to Severus. "That's good enough for me."

The women returned shortly and announced that dinner was ready. Severus helped Mr. Stanley set up the table and chairs, converting the sitting room into a dining room. The fare was simple, but tasty. Mrs. Stanley made certain Severus received the largest portions of everything she served. When he complimented her on her pumpkin cakes, she promised to send him home with a few extras, "Just in case you're feeling peckish later."

"Told you she'd try to adopt you," Veronica said playfully. 

After dinner, Veronica showed him the rest of the small house, then took him into her old bedroom. The room was tiny and cramped to him, but was probably still quite comfortable to her judging by the warm expression on her face. The little bed was covered with a patched and faded pink quilt. The dresser and wardrobe were mismatched and somewhat battered. Severus suspected that they had been second-hand when she got them. Veronica had mentioned some time ago that her father was a junk dealer, but Severus was still struck by the humbleness of their circumstances. The Stanleys weren't exactly poor, but they were definitely working class. He felt a twinge of guilt at the instinctive patrician contempt he suddenly felt for their lack of wealth. He made certain it did not show on his face. 

Severus picked up an old porcelain doll—no doubt, also second-hand—that was sitting on her dresser. The doll was missing some of her hair as well as one of her arms; her green satin dress was in tatters as were her yellowed petticoats.

"That's Clara," she told him. "Pathetic, isn't she?"

"It appears she's had a nasty accident," he said, indicating her missing limb.

"That was no accident," Veronica replied ominously. "She lost her arm in the Doll Wars."

"The what?"

She grinned. "During holidays, my brothers, Dennis and Tim, would take my dolls and their toy soldiers and have war games. My eldest brother, Gilbert, was the conscientious objector in the family so refused to participate." She took the doll from him and placed Clara lovingly back in her place on the dresser. "Were you an only child?"

Severus nodded. Just one healthy son was needed to carry on the bloodline. After she had fulfilled her obligation to his father, his mother had refused to have another. "I suppose after she saw me, my mother didn't want to risk it a second time. Imagine if I'd had a sister with a nose like mine?"

"I like your nose," she said as she reached up and lightly tapped the tip. "It's the only thing around that's bigger than my hair."

One corner of his mouth curled up. "Nothing is bigger than your hair."

Veronica laughed. Severus took her chin in his hand and leaned in to kiss her. Abruptly—almost violently—she pulled away. She bumped the dresser, causing Clara to crash to the floor. The doll's porcelain head smashed into a dozen pieces. 

At the sight of her beloved toy broken on the floor, Veronica rushed from the room in tears. Severus had a feeling that her sudden distress had little to do with her broken doll. He took out his wand and repaired the doll to its previous condition. He left her room and found Mr. and Mrs. Stanley in the corridor looking strangely relieved that their daughter was finally showing some of her true emotions for the first time this evening.

"She's in the garden shed out back," Mrs. Stanley told Severus. "She used to hide in there when she was a little girl." 

It was still raining, so Severus hurried through the small back garden, opened the door to the tiny shed and just managed to squeeze himself inside. Veronica was sitting on a crate in the back of the shed. She had taken her hair down and had tried to rub some of the makeup off her face. The rubbing along with her tears had caused her eye makeup to smear, making her look a little like a raccoon. He took a linen handkerchief from his robe pocket and held it out in the rain for a moment to moisten it. Then he knelt down in front of her and gently wiped the makeup from around her eyes. He was grateful she didn't flinch at his platonic touch.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I couldn't wait till next year for another breakdown."

"Is that what this is all about?" he asked, not bothering to hide his irritation. "I never meant for you to think that you had to pretend like nothing was wrong. I thought we were friends. If you didn't want me to kiss you, you should have said so."

"Oh, Severus, it's so much more complicated than that." Veronica took the handkerchief from him and began to twist it fretfully. "Ever since Balin first...raped me," she mouthed the word 'raped', "I've secretly hoped that I would be whole again someday, but I don't think I ever will be. And it isn't just a matter of being uncomfortable with you touching me, because sometimes I'm not. I do want you, but there's something wrong with me—with the way I think."

"What do you mean?"

She hesitated. "Remember when I put the memories of his abuse in the Pensieve and you destroyed them?"

He nodded. "Of course."

Veronica looked away guiltily. "Well, I didn't put them all in. There were times when he was so gentle and he made me feel so _good—"_

"He did it to manipulate you," Severus said quickly.

"I know. That's what makes it so twisted. Part of me misses him. Part of me still wants him." Veronica looked down at her feet and whispered, "Part of me wants him to hurt me again." She managed to lift her head and meet his gaze. "You deserve someone who can love you properly."

"And you deserve to be hurt, is that it?"

She shrugged. "Sometimes, I think I do. I told you, I'm not…normal."

"And I am?" He rose to his feet angrily. The top of his head brushed the ceiling of the small shack. "I've _killed people, Veronica."_

"Severus, I know—"

"I'm not just referring to the people I've poisoned, but the ones I've tortured to death. There were times when I even enjoyed it a little. Now, that's hardly normal either. Do you still think my soul is worth saving?"

"You know I do," she replied sincerely.

"That is one of the reasons why I care for you as much as I do." He had to suppress the desire to take her in his arms. If only that were enough to take her pain away. "And if I can be redeemed, then you can be whole again."

He saw a spark of hope in her eyes, quickly replaced by fear. "But how long do you think you can stand me like this? I love you, but you're not a very patient man."

Veronica had no idea how much it meant to him to hear her say she loved him, especially now. "No, but I'm a very stubborn man and I don't like not getting my way."

She smiled slightly. "I've noticed that."

Severus opened the door to the shed and held out his hand. "Now, come along and kiss your parents goodbye, then I'll take you home."

Veronica rose from her crate and took his hand. "They like you, you know."

He broke out in a sardonic grin. "You see, miracles happen all the time."

*

Rupert Balin felt his Mark burn more painfully than it had since his escape from Azkaban. Voldemort was calling him home—urgently. As comforting as that was, it had been twenty long years since he'd had a chance to play. Surely, his old Master would understand if he had a little fun before returning to his service.

"_Please stand to the right when using the escalators…" the omnipresent London Underground announcer proclaimed.___

Balin studied the strange moving staircase for several minutes, considering how best to proceed. He was dressed like a respectable Muggle gentleman, an Obscuring Charm blurring his features, thus preventing the Muggle passers-by from recognizing him as the most wanted man in Britain. He was pleased no end that his past crimes still served to terrorize both Muggle and wizard, but it was time to show them all that he had not lost his edge. 

Several Muggles rushing to the subterranean train they called the 'Tube' turned to hurl insults at Balin for standing in their way. Without knowing why, they invariably swallowed their vitriolic comments and walked around him, giving him a wide berth and pulled their coats tightly closed.

The two dementors flanking Balin were the cause of their discomfort. Though they were invisible to the Muggles, even non-magical folk could feel their icy presence. The rotting creatures towered over their tall human companion, hovering near him expectantly—restless for the souls he'd promised them.

_"Please keep your belongings safe. Pickpockets operate at this station…" _

_Pickpockets will soon be the least of your problems, Balin thought evilly. He felt his pulse race with anticipation as he stepped onto the escalator, followed by his dementors. With a rakish smile, Balin made sure to stay to the right as instructed by the unseen announcer, but noticed that those who had gotten on after him chose to remain where they were instead of passing him. One Muggle actually turned around and struggled up the down escalator. Even with the Obscuring Charm to hide his face, Balin couldn't afford to dally too long._

Balin and his comrades finally reached the bottom of the strange staircase and entered the platform, the hooded creatures gliding alongside of him. The Piccadilly Circus station was filled with well over a hundred Muggles waiting for trains. 

Balin breathed in deeply; the stench of human souls was like perfume. He caught the movement of a shapely leg out of the corner of his eye. A pretty blonde woman and her redheaded friend were slowly inching away from him. 

Balin pulled out his wand and grinned devilishly._ "Appareo!" _

Suddenly, the two women screamed. The dementors, no longer invisible, drew back their hoods to reveal their gray, scabbed skulls and immediately fell upon them. Each dementor took one of the women around the neck, their breath rattling, their shapeless gaping mouths opening wide.

Muggles started howling with fear and rushed towards the entrance to escape the dementors. Little did they know that the human with them was more dangerous than a thousand of the rotting creatures. Balin pointed his wand again, this time at the exit. _"OBSIDO!"_

Muggles falling over themselves to flee slammed into an invisible barrier. Though Balin was never terribly fond of the Killing Curse (it was far too quick and merciful), it did make an impression. _"AVADA __KEDAVRA!" Blinding green light flashed from the end of his wand, sending the deadly spell straight into the middle of the crowd of Muggles still attempting to claw their way out of the platform._

A second later, two dozen Muggles lay dead. Balin sighed in satisfaction, then turned to his companions. The dementors had sucked the souls out of ten Muggles so far. Their victims lay on the floor of the platform in trembling, mindless heaps.

Over the sounds of screaming, Balin heard a train approaching. It was time to go. He ordered the dementors to stop their feeding; they did so reluctantly. "No need making pigs of yourselves."

They lowered their heads in a sulking posture as they once again took their places on either side of their master.

As the train pulled into the station and the bothersome voice called, _"Mind the gap", Balin  pointed his wand above his head and bellowed, __"INCENDIO HUMANUS!" _

The air all around the trio crackled and hissed, then burst into flame. Balin Disapparated with his dementors just as the exquisite shrieking reached his ears, followed by the smell of burning flesh.

***


	11. Evil Old Men

**Chapter Eleven: Evil Old Men**

Wormtail's silver hand shook as he knocked softly on the ancient oak door to Isela's boudoir.

"What is it, Pettigrew?" Professor Balin demanded irritably through the door.  
  


"The Dark Lord wants to see you straight away." 

When Balin had finally answered Voldemort's call last night, the Dark Lord's ire at his tardiness melted away when Voldemort laid eyes on the two dementors Balin presented him. Nagini had hissed so pitifully at the creatures, Voldemort had them locked up in a cell. Unfortunately, it was Wormtail's job to 'feed' them. Tonight, he would be forced to leave the sanctuary of the old abbey in search of a couple of unsuspecting souls. In spite of that, Wormtail was in a surprisingly good mood.

For the first time since Balin's homecoming, Wormtail had something to smile about—albeit to himself. Voldemort's delight at his old friend's return had turned into rage this morning.  If things went the way he hoped, Wormtail would once again take his place as Voldemort's right-hand man.

A moment later, Balin opened the door, wearing a simple black robe. The beautiful Isela was sitting up in bed. She had the sheet pulled up to cover her front, but her back was exposed. Wormtail gasp when he saw that her back was covered with deep scratches, bruises and bites. By her expression as she watched Balin, Isela didn't seem to mind the rough treatment—in fact, she was positively glowing. _How could she want him? He's an old man! Balin was also tall, distinguished and still had all of his hair. Just three more reasons for Wormtail to hate his old Defense Against the Dark Arts professor._

Balin sneered. "Lead the way, Worm." 

Wormtail sighed, but remained silent. As he led Balin down the narrow spiral stone staircase to the dungeon and Voldemort's audience chamber, he just hoped that whatever punishment the Dark Lord meted out would be especially painful.

Balin followed Wormtail in and bowed his head. "The rodent said you wanted to see me, My Lord."

Voldemort was sitting in his sumptuous throne-like chair with Nagini slithering in a figure eight around him. The Dark Lord's jaw was clinched and he was tapping his long, pale finger impatiently on the arm of his chair. He held a copy of the _Daily Prophet tightly in his other hand. A small stack of Muggle newspapers lay on the stone table next to him along with a cold cup of tea._

Wormtail stood to the side, daring to let a small smile of satisfaction cross his lips.

"Did you sleep well, Rupert?" Voldemort asked petulantly.

Balin hesitated. "Quite well, thank you, My Lord."

"Really?" Voldemort snapped. "I would have thought that your concubine's incessant screaming would have kept you up. I enjoy screaming as much as the next Dark wizard, but not when I'm trying to sleep."

"I am truly sorry, My Lord. It won't happen again."

"Good. There's one more thing that best not happen again." Voldemort held up the copy of the _Daily Prophet and displayed the headline: '223 MUGGLES KILLED IN TUBE STATION FIRE. WORST ATTACK YET!' "You told me that you had 'a little fun' with some Muggles before you finally decided to answer my summons. This isn't 'a little fun', this is a massacre!" _

"I thought you'd be pleased," Balin replied calmly. Wormtail noted that a few beads of perspiration had broken out on Balin's forehead.

"You thought I'd be pleased, did you?" Voldemort proceeded to read the front-page article: "'Yesterday's attack by Azkaban fugitive, Rupert Balin and the two dementors under his control, is unprecedented in wizarding history for its violence and savagery. Ministry sources were quoted as saying that Balin is close to replacing You-Know-Who as the most dangerous Dark wizard of recent times…'" Voldemort furiously crumpled the paper into a little ball. He drew his wand and threw the paper up in the air. "_INCENDIO!" The paper caught fire and fell to the ground at Balin's feet. Voldemort then rose slowly and stood facing his old friend, almost nose to nose. "Upstage me again, Rupert, and you will discover just which one of us is the most dangerous Dark wizard alive."_

Wormtail waited for Voldemort to at least put the Cruciatus Curse on his old professor, but Balin just took a step back and bowed low. When he rose, Voldemort flashed a snaky grin and clapped him on the shoulder. "No hard feelings, old friend." Balin smiled in return, but there was undisguised distrust at his Master's words in his soulless blue eyes.

"That's not fair!" Wormtail whispered in indignation.

"Wormtail!" Voldemort barked.

Wormtail rushed to his Master's side and bowed obsequiously. "Yes, My Lord?"

"Get us some tea—stronger this time—and some of those lovely blackberry scones with clotted cream. Oh yes, and get a chair for my old friend." Voldemort picked up the copy of the Muggle _Observer and turned back to Balin. "I have to admit I am pleased with the Muggle reaction. Their government is trying to pass it off as some sort of freak explosion, but several Muggles who managed to escape actually saw the dementors and were able to tell their story before the Magical Reversal Squad got their hands on them. The International Code of Wizarding Secrecy has been breached. Well done, Rupert."_

Balin grinned widely. "Thank you, my Lord."

Wormtail fumed as he glared at the two men. 

It was Balin, not Voldemort, who finally turned to him, "What are you waiting for, Pettigrew? Run along now." Then to Voldemort, "That boy was always a half-wit, how can you abide him?"

As he left the chamber to get the tea and scones, Wormtail heard Voldemort declare contemptuously, "He has his uses."

*

Veronica looked tired, but more relaxed than Severus had seen her since Balin's escape. It didn't make sense, given the dream she had had last night. He learned, along with the rest of the school, of Balin's attack on the Muggle Underground station from the _Daily Prophet. Veronica had not told him until they had left the Great Hall after breakfast that she had experienced the attack first-hand in a dream._

"Why didn't you wake me?" In his exasperation, Severus slammed the door to Veronica's office harder than he had intended.

Veronica jumped at the noise, but seemed strangely self-possessed. Even though she wasn't wearing any makeup today, she had on her blue robe (Severus had been secretly fearful that she would revert back to those horrid yellow rags) and her hair was plaited and pinned up making her look as pretty as she had last night at her parents' house. 

"There didn't seem to be any point. I knew it had already happened. Besides, I thought you deserved a rest after my mother's pumpkin cakes," she added with a smile. "I did report it to Dumbledore as soon as I woke up."

Severus hoped this meant she was attempting to make peace with the old wizard, but didn't think now was the time to ask about that. "I wonder if Voldemort ordered this attack or if Balin acted on his own?"

"Dumbledore asked me that, too. I got the feeling Balin was acting on his own. It was as if since he escaped, there had been this tremendous pressure building up inside of him that was suddenly released with the attack. I think he'll go back to Voldemort now."

Severus silently wondered what Voldemort's response to Balin's actions would be, but said, "You seem rather calm about it."

"I know. It's strange, but I actually feel better—not for all those poor people, of course…"

He scowled and crossed his arms over his chest. "So what does Dumbledore think of this—_bond you seem to have with Balin?"_

Veronica sighed. "We didn't really discuss it. He just asked that I report any more dreams I have to him." She paused, then rose from behind her desk and walked over to where he was standing. She put her hand on his arm and gently squeezed it. "Severus, you have _nothing to worry about."_

"Worried? Why would I be worried?" Severus dropped his arms to his sides and attempted to casually stroll over to a shelf piled high with old issues of the _Journal of Magic and the illicit,__ Dark Wizards Quarterly. Peeking out from under the magical journals was a copy of __Witch Weekly which Severus pulled out__. On the cover was handsome wizard with a blinding white smile named Reginald Ridefort. "You actually read this?" _

"When I want to turn off my brain. I thought I had thrown that one away." 

Veronica went to take the magazine from him, but Severus held onto it tightly. He was suddenly mesmerized, not by Reggie's bright smile, but by the words just to the right of his picture: 'You Too Can Have a Charming Smile (Though Not Quite as Charming as Mine)!' Severus tore his eyes away from the magazine and found Veronica grinning at him, obviously trying not to giggle. 

"I think you look fine, but in case you're interested, he uses Sparkledent Toothpaste."

He glowered at her. "First Sleekeazy's Hair Potion, now Sparkledent Toothpaste. Tell me, Veronica, are there any other personal care items I should know about?"

"Not that I can think of off hand," she replied as a few snickers escaped from her lips. "I'd say we could pop over to Hogsmeade to pick up some, but the Apothecary is closed on Sunday."

Severus glanced at Reggie again, who was now turning his head slightly so that his teeth could catch the overcast sunlight streaming into her office. Though Severus could never see himself smiling like this ridiculous fool, it would indeed be a relief if his teeth—now yellowed and uneven—would cease to be a source of whispered insults from his students and other staff members, as his oily hair had been. "The Apothecary in Hogsmeade might be closed today, but the one in Diagon Alley isn't—if you're up to it."

Veronica nodded. "I'll get my cloak."

*

As soon as they entered Diagon Alley, Veronica asked if they could first stop at Gringotts as she didn't have even a Knut on her. "I want to go to Borgin and Burkes for the new issue of _Dark Wizards Quarterly." _

As she went to present her key to one of the bank's goblins, Severus stayed her hand and presented his own key. She tried to protest, but he ignored her. _Oh well, it's just a magazine—and I'll pay him back for it whether he wants me to or not._

The goblin examined the key carefully. "Pobel!" Another goblin, indistinguishable from his fellow, quickly joined them. "Take them to vault five hundred and seventy-five."

Pobel nodded briskly, then led Veronica and Severus to the cart that would take them deep inside the wizard bank. Seeing the meager contents of her own vault was always a bit depressing for Veronica, so she found that the twisting, winding trip downward was usually the best part of her visits to Gringotts. She could tell by the look on Severus' face that it was definitely not his favorite part. In fact, he was gripping the edge of the cart so firmly that his knuckles were white.

The cart jerked to a stop in front of vault five hundred and seventy-five. Pobel climbed out, followed by Severus who then helped Veronica to her feet. The goblin unlocked the door. When the puff of smoke cleared, Veronica's loud gasp was followed by several moments of incoherent sputtering as she caught her first glimpse of the contents of his vault. She had never seen so much gold in her life.

One corner of Severus' mouth curled up. He was clearly pleased by her reaction. "I told you my parents were wealthy."

"Yes, but you didn't say _you were!"  _

"Can we get on with it, please," snapped the goblin.

Severus gathered up several handfuls of gold and put them into a leather pouch.

"We're just buying toothpaste and a magazine," Veronica reminded him with a warning tone.

Severus tucked the pouch into his robe pocket. "I thought I'd splurge and buy a new toothbrush, as well."

They left the bank, made a brief stop in seedy Knockturn Alley for Veronica's magazine, then returned to Diagon Alley and made their way toward the Apothecary. Veronica suspected that the reason Severus had grabbed all that gold was because he had wanted to spend at least some of it on her. She made sure she kept her eyes pointed straight ahead, not daring to glance in any of the shop windows for fear he'd insist on buying something else for her. 

Veronica managed to avert her gaze from all that Diagon Alley had to offer, that is until they passed Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. Her eyes were caught by a beautiful light gray cloak with a silver clasp in the shape of a dragon, hanging in the shop's window. Her eyes had strayed only for a second, but that was enough for Severus. He gently took her arm and made her stop in front of the window. 

She was careful to keep her eyes on him. "Do you mind if we stop for some lunch and a pint at the Leaky Cauldron after we visit the Apothecary?"

Severus glanced at the cloak in the window and turned back to her. "You can have anything you like."

The words and the way he uttered them with that deep, sonorous voice of his sent a pleasant chill down Veronica's spine, but she couldn't take advantage of his offer. A magazine and a meal was one thing, but an expensive cloak was quite another. "Well, then make that a pint and a shot of Firewhiskey."

"I meant the cloak."

"I know. I was trying to distract you. The one I have is fine, but thank you." She took his hand and attempted to pull him in the direction of the Apothecary, but he didn't budge. With his other hand he touched the frayed edge of her cloak and stuck his finger through a moth hole in the fabric.

Veronica snatched it away sheepishly. "I was going to fix that."

With an affectionate sneer, Severus sighed. "Why is it that you'll try my patience almost beyond endurance, but you won't allow me the simple pleasure of buying you a gift? Consider it an early birthday present—I know it's coming up next month."

"And how do you know that?"

"You're mother told me when she gave me those pumpkin cakes." 

She silently cursed her mother, but acquiesced. Of course, once Veronica had tried on the cloak, Severus decided that she also needed another robe because, "If something ever happened to this one, you'd be forced to wear that yellow monstrosity again." When she protested, he threatened to have ten new robes delivered to her by owl post on her birthday. She finally ended up with the cloak, a gorgeous maroon silk robe, and a pair of pointed black shoes with lovely silver buckles. She decided to wear her new finery and donate her old cloak to the second-hand robe shop, so Madam Malkin's assistant wrapped up her blue robe and her old shoes in pink boxes tied with black ribbon.

Veronica stood in front of the shop's mirror shyly admiring herself. The mirror was making embarrassing cooing sounds and showering her with compliments that were probably so oft repeated that they sounded insincere. Severus crept up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. His reflection was so stern—almost harsh—but his gentle words belied it. "_This is what you deserve."_

"Snape," said a voice behind them that sounded distressingly familiar, "what a surprise meeting you here." 

Severus and Veronica spun around and were confronted not only by the arrogant Lucius Malfoy, but also by a blonde woman hanging on his arm—attractive except for the fact that her pert nose seemed to be stuck in a permanent wrinkle. _Great goddess, there's two of them?!_

"Malfoy," Severus said curtly, inclining his head slightly. 

"Severus, how long has it been?" The blonde woman let go of Malfoy's arm and regally held out her porcelain-smooth hand. Severus took her hand and kissed it awkwardly. 

"Five years, at least, Narcissa," Severus replied.

Narcissa, presumably Malfoy's wife, once again latched onto her husband and gave Veronica a patronizing smile. "Who's your little friend?"

Severus only reluctantly introduced the two women. Judging by Narcissa's reaction, she was well aware of Veronica's identity even before Severus' brusque introduction.

Narcissa unwrinkled her nose as she let out a light, twinkling laugh. "Dear Severus, your manners were always so delightfully atrocious." She crinkled her nose again and looked down it at Veronica. "Despite your refined upbringing."

Veronica opened her mouth to respond, but Severus chucked her under the chin. "Be a good girl and go pick out some pretty lingerie," he leered. "You know what I like."

Veronica gave him a dazzling smile, but shot daggers at him with her eyes. "Anything for you, my darling."

Malfoy whispered something to Narcissa, then she followed Veronica to the lingerie table. Veronica had never bought lingerie in her life and was a little discomfited by the frilly lace knickers on display. She looked over her shoulder and saw Severus and Malfoy speaking in civil, low tones. As a lark, Veronica tried to imagine what exactly Severus would like and picked up a black satin corset, obviously meant for a woman with a much fuller figure than her own. 

Narcissa made a few dainty, disapproving noises behind her back. "He'll never marry you."

"Really?" Veronica replied in a bored tone._ Marriage?! __Who said anything about marriage? _

"I'm only telling you this for your own good. Severus is from one of the oldest and most noble wizarding families, you can't seriously believe he'll allow himself to be saddled with the daughter of a—" Narcissa paused, adding extra venom to her next words, "rubbish peddler."

Veronica slammed the corset down on the table angrily. "You can say anything you like about me, Mrs. Malfoy, but don't you dare insult my dad."

"Hardly an insult, dear, merely a statement of fact," Narcissa replied scornfully. "Oversensitivity is so typical of the lower classes. Take my advice and keep to your own kind." 

When no pithy retort was forthcoming, Narcissa sauntered back over to where Severus and Malfoy were standing. Veronica watched Narcissa touch Severus' cheek with disturbing familiarity, then exit the shop with her husband.

Severus collected Veronica's packages and met her at the lingerie table. "Don't let anything that hateful bitch said bother you."

"Did you know her well?" she asked with a touch of anxiety in her voice.

"Come along, Veronica. After we visit the Apothecary we'll have lunch and then we can talk."

Severus had Veronica buy his Sparkledent Toothpaste and toothbrush as well as a few bottles of Sleekeazy's Hair Potion, then the pair made their way to the Leaky Cauldron. Severus requested  a private parlor, but only after Tom the innkeeper served their drinks and food did Severus finally answer her question. 

"I used to know Narcissa very well—so did many other Death Eaters."

"What do you mean?" After she asked the question, Veronica wasn't quite sure she wanted to know the answer.

Severus got a faraway look in his black eyes, but whatever memories he was reliving didn't appear to be pleasant ones. "In the old days, a group of young and mostly aristocratic young women used to make themselves…_available to us, particularly after raids."_

Veronica raised an eyebrow. "The Death Eaters Women's Auxiliary?"

Severus snorted. "More like a bunch of upper class camp followers. They were drawn to the power—the Darkness, and in Narcissa's case, the money and family connections. Malfoy's lineage is no more distinguished than my own, but his Gringotts vault was much fuller." 

Veronica felt her cheeks burn. "You actually considered marrying her?"

Severus broke out in a sly half smile. "Are you jealous?"

She pouted and nodded grudgingly. "Did you love her?"

He shook his head. "It would be impossible to love anything that cold."

Veronica heaved a sigh of relief. Severus took a sip of his ale and motioned for her to move to his side of the table. When she settled next to him on the wooden bench, he took her hands in his. "May I kiss you?"

She was so touched by his asking her permission, that all she could do was nod. He took her face in his hands and kissed her softly on the lips. Then Severus whispered something in her ear so tenderly it made Veronica weep:

"I love you." 

*

Harry was quietly apprehensive all during classes on the Monday after Balin's attack on the Piccadilly Circus Tube Station. Ron and Hermione had tried to be reassuring, but what Harry really needed was information. He doubted Professor Stanley would be any more obliging than she had been last week, so he didn't even bother asking her again. He knew it was because she was in a lot of pain, but Harry couldn't help being a bit cross with her. She had told her students more than once that she would always be there for them, but when Harry really needed her, she had become as politely unhelpful in such matters as his other professors were.

It was quite a surprise when, after his Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson, Stanley asked him to come to her office after classes. She even had tea and cakes for him when he arrived. He accepted a cup of tea, but he didn't feel at all hungry, so he left the cakes untouched.

She folded her hands on her desk and met his eyes. "Harry, I owe you an apology. I was so wrapped up in my own troubles that I forgot that my primary concern should be for my students' welfare."

Harry suddenly felt a bit guilty for being angry with her. "That's all right, Professor."

"Ask me anything you like," she said earnestly. "I'll answer your questions as best I can."

It took Harry only a second to recall the question that had been haunting him the most. "How did Balin get the dementors to help him escape? Two years ago, the Ministry sent dementors to Hogwarts. I could hardly—" he almost said, 'keep from fainting around them', but stopped himself. 

Stanley took a deep breath. "Balin is third most powerful wizard alive; only Dumbledore and Voldemort are more powerful, but what makes him…special, is that he doesn't have a soul. That's how he's able to be around the dementors without being affected by them, and bend them to his will."

"No soul? You mean, he suffered the Dementor's Kiss?"

"No, Harry. I mean he was born without one."

Harry put down his teacup and tried to absorb what Stanley had just told him. "But how can a person survive without a soul?"

She shrugged. "No one knows exactly. Fortunately, it's a very rare occurrence. When it does happen, the results are usually disastrous. You were raised by Muggles, weren't you?"

For a moment, Harry wondered if she was going to tell him that the Dursleys had been born without souls. He nodded. 

"Well then, you may have heard of Adolph Hitler, Ted Bundy, Jeffery Dahmer, Andrei Chikatilo, Charles Manson—any of those names sound familiar?"

"You just listed the most horrible murderers in Muggle history." He started to shiver a little when he thought of how much worse, as a wizard, Balin must be compared to them. 

"They acted the way they did because they were all born without souls." Professor Stanley turned, pulled a book off the shelf and handed it to him.

Harry read the cover: _The Soulless Ones by__ Veronica Stanley. "You wrote this! I didn't know you wrote a book."_

She gave him a wry smile. "Considering how poorly it sold, that's hardly surprising. Basically, the theory I put forth in the book is that even though they were born without souls, they're still human beings and like other humans, they have a need to connect with others of their kind. Because they are soulless, they can't connect in the same way you or I would—through friendship or love."

"How do they connect?"

"Generally, in one of two ways. The first is through the worst sort of violence; the second, well, uh—" She nervously pointed to her book. "Chapter Four."

Harry flipped to the table of contents and silently read the title of Chapter Four: _The Sexual Connection. His face suddenly felt hot, partly due to discomfort and partly due to anger. "That's what he did to you," he said quietly._

Professor Stanley lowered her head. "A little bit of both actually."

As much as Harry wanted to comfort her, he had to know more. "He wouldn't…to me—would he? I mean, I'm a boy."

She took his hand, tears welling up in her eyes. "We won't let anything happen to you, Harry. There are ten Aurors guarding the school. Dumbledore, McGonagall, Hagrid, Professor Snape and myself—we're all looking after you."

Harry knew they would never _let anything happen to him, but Voldemort had always found a way to get to him in the past. "You said Balin was the third most powerful wizard alive. Do you think that he and Voldemort together could beat Dumbledore?"_

Stanley let out an unhappy sigh. "Very likely."

Harry felt a great lump settle in the pit of his stomach. "That's what I was afraid of."

*

Severus was in the middle of his double Potions class with the third-year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws when he felt the burning in his left arm. _Why is he calling me now? Voldemort knew Severus couldn't leave during a class if he hoped to maintain his (as far as Voldemort was concerned) respectable façade. _

He ignored the summons for the time being, not letting the excruciating pain of his burning Mark show on his face. As soon as he dismissed his last class, Severus gathered up the vials of poison he had made for Voldemort and rushed toward the main gate. He left his mask behind, hoping that he had been called only to deliver the poison, and not for a gathering of all the Dark Lord's followers. Severus steeled himself for the possibility that Balin would be there as well. He most definitely could not afford to reveal his personal feelings in that man's presence. 

When Severus arrived at the main gate, the Auror on duty eyed him suspiciously. "You certainly do come and go a lot, don't you?" He was the same man who had been on duty the previous weekend when he and Veronica had left Hogwarts twice in as many days.

Severus scowled. "In case you have forgotten, I am a Hogwarts professor. I will continue to come and go as I please without being subjected to your—observations."

The Auror let him pass, but with a look that made Severus suspect that Minister Wilmont had spread the word about his Dark Mark. He had told the Auror that he was going to Hogsmeade, but once he reached a clump of trees, he allowed himself to Disapparate. Even though he had expected it, Severus was still shocked to see Balin sitting next to Voldemort when he Apparated inside the Dark Lord's audience chamber. 

Balin rose, a broad grin on his face. "Severus! How are you my boy?" He took Severus' hand and pumped it enthusiastically.

Balin looked older and grayer, but amazingly well considering that he'd spent the last twenty years in Azkaban. "It's good to see you again, sir. I was gratified to read of your—early release," Severus said with an evil grin. "Not to mention your entertaining escapade in the London Underground."

Balin shrugged modestly, but Severus couldn't help noticing the unpleasant grimace that suddenly crossed Voldemort's pale face. 

"Voldemort tells me you're teaching Potions at Hogwarts now," Balin said, settling himself back in his chair. 

"I'm also Slytherin Head of House," Severus added. 

"Hogwarts," Balin sighed nostalgically. "I do miss the old place. So what dunderhead has Dumbledore hired to replace me as Defense Against the Dark Arts professor?"  
  
"Actually, since you…retired, we haven't managed to keep anyone for long," Severus told him. "We've gone through a dozen at least."

Balin smiled. "Don't tell me you're looking for a new one?"

"I'm afraid the position is currently occupied—by a woman, no less." There was no point in lying or being evasive; besides, Severus needed to know just how interested Balin was in Veronica. 

"Not one of my Slytherin girls following in my footsteps?"

Without missing a beat, Severus replied, "No, a Hufflepuff."

Severus watched Balin's reaction, careful not to show any himself. A look of lascivious excitement came over the older man's face. "Not Veronica Stanley?" 

Severus nodded. "The very same. I'm surprised you remember her."

Balin laughed with delight. "Yes, she was rather nondescript, but she provided me with hours of amusement." 

Severus made certain his features—especially his eyes—remained impassive, but it was all he could do not to strangle the bastard with his bare hands.

Voldemort's pale brow furrowed in concentration. "Stanley…that's the second time I've heard that woman's name. Malfoy had requested that she be one of the ones exterminated on Christmas Night—something about her making a fool of him in public and causing his son to be an object of ridicule at Hogwarts. Of course, I told him to settle his own grudges and refused to listen further." He sighed impatiently. "I'm sure the two of you could stroll down memory lane for hours, but I have more important business to attend to. Where's my poison?"

Severus handed him a leather bag with a dozen small vials of the flesh-eating poison. He bowed and was just about to leave when Voldemort stopped him.

"Severus, have you done something to yourself?"

"My Lord?"

"I thought I'd noticed it before," Voldemort said, gesturing with a long, spidery finger. "You've done something to your hair—and your teeth."

"Just a new hair potion and toothpaste," Severus replied uncomfortably.

"Why the sudden change?" The Dark Lord gave him a sly, snaky smile. "A young lady perhaps?"

Severus grunted noncommittally. 

Thankfully, Voldemort quickly lost interest in the matter and waved him away.

*

The flicker in Snape's eyes had lasted only for a second, but it was there long enough for Balin to see it.

Of all Balin's students in the Dark Arts, Severus had always been the best at masking his emotions even from his old professor. Balin had suspected that Severus was plagued by a streak of conscience when he sometimes hesitated before a kill, but Balin never saw it in his eyes. But when Voldemort casually mentioned Malfoy's request to have Veronica killed, Balin saw the alarm, the rage—quickly veiled, but not quickly enough. Could it be that this 'young lady' Severus had primped himself for was Veronica Stanley? If the implications were not so serious, Balin would have laughed out loud. "My Lord, do you trust Snape?"

Voldemort fixed his red eyes on him. "Is there some reason why I shouldn't?"

"Perhaps. I am curious to know what else Malfoy has to say about—" Balin chuckled, "_Professor Stanley." _

"Very well," Voldemort replied. "Your arm, Rupert."

Balin pulled up his left sleeve to reveal his Dark Mark. Voldemort pressed his pale forefinger into Balin's Mark and called Lucius Malfoy to his side

***


	12. Tea and Voldemort

**Chapter Twelve: Tea and Voldemort**

"You're joking?" Veronica said, giggling like a schoolgirl. "Voldemort mentioned _me by name?"  
  
_

Severus snorted. "I just told you Malfoy tried to have you killed and that's all you can say?" 

She cleared her throat in an attempt to contain her glee as she sat on the sofa in his dungeon room. "Sorry, it's a matter of professional pride. In Dark Arts research circles, you know you've made it when Voldemort knows who you are."

"He mentioned you very much in passing, so don't get too excited." Severus sat down next her and draped his arm across the back of the sofa. Veronica took his arm and put it around her shoulders, then scooted closed to him, as he hoped she would. 

They sat in silence for a few moments. The anxiety that crept across her face told him that she knew he had more to tell her, but she was letting him do it in his own time. Veronica's expression of worry was mixed with keen interest as she looked around his room. The furnishings were draped in black, the shelves were lined with ancient books, jars of Potions ingredients and petrified creatures. They tended to spend most of their time alone together in her office, but he got the impression that she actually felt more comfortable down here.

"Balin was there as well," Severus finally said. 

"Oh." Her breathing suddenly became shallow and quick. 

"Naturally, the subject of Hogwarts came up. When he asked who was teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts, I had to tell him."

Veronica visibly tensed. "What did he say?" 

Was that apprehension or eagerness he heard in her voice? Severus felt jealousy welling up inside of him. "He found it very funny," he said with a trace of callous satisfaction. "You're not special to him." 

The disappointment in her eyes wasn't unexpected, nor was the look of hurt she directed towards him. She shrugged off his arm as she rose to her feet. "I don't expect you to understand," she said, raising her voice slightly, "but in some ways, Balin was the most important person in my life. For good or ill, I am what I am today because of him and to know that it means _nothing _to him..."

"I'm afraid that is a Slytherin trait, not unique to Balin," Severus told her. "I've hurt people all my life and for the most part, I don't care either. It's a matter of degree—that's the only difference between us."

"But you have a soul."

He took her hands and pulled her gently back onto the sofa. "Yes, but it's a Slytherin soul, and I'm afraid my Slytherin soul does not understand why your Hufflepuff soul needs for him to care. Why is my love not enough for you?"

Veronica sighed in frustration. "I want it to be. I've never had much incentive to move on with my life, until now. I suppose I should just get on with it." She inched closer to him again, then settled in his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck. "There," she said timidly. "I never thought I'd be able to do this again, but here I am."

Severus tried not to let the whole of his delight show, lest he frighten her. "How is it so far?"

"Rather pleasant, actually." She shifted her weight a little, causing him to grunt. "Am I hurting you?"

"Great gods, no! Though it would probably be best if you didn't move around too much."

Veronica quickly caught on and averted her gaze. "I want to—you know."

His breath caught in his throat. "_Now_?"

A look of terror crossed her features. "Well, not _right_ now, but soon."

Severus put his hand on the back of her neck, pulled her close and kissed her deeply. "How soon?"

In reply, Veronica placed soft kisses along his jaw line and then behind his ear. "Fairly soon."

His heart pounded hard in his chest, while delicious waves of pained bliss blasted through his entire body. "How soon is 'fairly soon'?"

Keeping one arm around his neck, Veronica sat up and played with the buttons on the front of his robe with her other hand. "When are you going to stop being a spy?" 

His mouth curled in a sly smile. "Just as soon as you let me make love to you."

She cuffed him on the shoulder in mock annoyance. "Seriously."

Severus' smile faded. "Soon."

*

"Take off your mask."

Lucius Malfoy's gray eyes darted uneasily from Voldemort to Balin before he surrendered the illusion of anonymity the mask provided. He bowed diffidently, but he had that same look of arrogance Balin remembered him having even as a student at Hogwarts. 

"You wished to see me, My Lord?" 

"I wished to see you five hours ago, Lucius," Voldemort replied petulantly. With a brief glare at Balin, he added, "I do not appreciate being kept waiting."

"My apologies, but my wife and I were attending a banquet—"

Voldemort's red eyes narrowed. "You kept me waiting for a banquet?"

Malfoy tried to maintain his dignity as he started to perspire. "I do have my reputation as a respectable citizen to protect."

"Soon, Lucius, you will be spared the burden of showing a respectable face to the world," Voldemort announced.

Malfoy's face fell. "What do you mean, My Lord?"

"When I take my rightful place and rule over the wizarding world," Voldemort said in exasperation, as if he were speaking to an idiot child. "Does that prospect not thrill you?"

The supercilious expression returned. "Of course, My Lord."

"But that's not why I called you here."

"No?" Malfoy's disquiet was now mixed with confusion.

"Tell me everything you know about Veronica Stanley," Voldemort ordered. "Particularly her relationship, if any, with Severus Snape."

A malevolent smile crept across Malfoy's face. "Snape's in love with her. According to my son, Draco, they act like teenagers at the staff table and they've been spotted kissing in the castle corridors. Snape gave her a racing broom for Christmas—the best on the market. Last Sunday, my wife and I encountered them at the robe shop in Diagon Alley. He was buying her lingerie."

Voldemort turned to Balin with a look that clearly said, 'So what?' 

Malfoy obviously saw it too, because he added, "My Lord, there's no way Snape could still be one of us if he's in love with that—Hufflepuff. You don't know what she's like. She quotes Muggle philosophers in her class; she champions every Mudblood and Squib in that school; she broke my son's wand in half because she caught him honing his torturing skills on a silly frog. She's even a vegetarian for gods' sake!"

"Oh dear, a _vegetarian," Voldemort replied sarcastically. "Why didn't you say so before?" _

"But, My Lord—"

"Enough, Lucius!" Voldemort waved his hand in dismissal. "Out of my sight."

Malfoy bowed, then turned to leave. 

Balin stopped him. "The Dark Lord tells me you're married to the lovely Narcissa. She was one of my more…_talented students—always so very eager to please. Be sure to give her a long, deep kiss for me, won't you?" _

Balin sneered with satisfaction when he saw the unconcealed hatred blaze in Malfoy's eyes, followed by his frustration at not being able to act on it.

As soon as Malfoy Disapparated, Balin turned to Voldemort. "He has a point, My Lord. Veronica Stanley has one of the purest spirits of anyone I have ever known. If Severus is indeed taken with her, I don't see how he could be one of us."

"It's true Severus left me once before, but he is the finest Potions Master I've ever had," Voldemort told him. "I am reluctant to be rid of him simply on Malfoy's word. You haven't seen this woman since she was a girl, perhaps she has changed."

Balin shook his head. "From Malfoy's description, she hasn't changed a bit. Perhaps Severus has changed."

Voldemort sat back in his chair and stroked his pale chin. He sighed in resignation. "The possibility that Snape could be spying on us for Dumbledore had occurred to me, but I was willing to overlook it as long as he kept supplying me with his superb poisons. Perhaps he has outlived his usefulness. Your arm, Rupert."

Balin hesitated. "You're going to kill him now?"

"What else do you suggest?"

"It just seems a pity to do away with him while he still has direct access to the thing you want most of all."

"Harry Potter." Voldemort's lipless mouth curled up in an evil grin. "What's your plan?"

"Quite simple, really," Balin replied. "Kidnap Miss Stanley and tell Severus to deliver Potter to you or you'll kill her." 

"Severus isn't a fool, he'll know it's a trap."

"True, but people do foolish things in the name of love all the time. And if he truly does love Veronica, he'll turn the boy over to you and then you can kill them both. If he doesn't turn Potter over, it will still be a psychological victory—if we can kidnap a Hogwarts professor, then no one is safe. Minimal effort for potentially great rewards, with no real risk to us." 

"And either way, you'll get your little playmate back," Voldemort added dryly. "Don't you think it's a bit cliché—I mean, 'give me the boy or I'll kill the woman you love'? No imagination if you ask me."

Balin wagged a finger. "Never be afraid to fall back on the classics." 

"I do see one rather formidable obstacle to your classic plan, Rupert," Voldemort said, apparently annoyed that he hadn't come up with it himself. "How do you propose kidnapping her from Hogwarts?"

"Well," Balin began sheepishly, "there's something I've been meaning to tell you about Miss Stanley…"

The Cruciatus Curse Voldemort inflicted upon Balin as punishment for burning the Dark Mark into Veronica was nothing compared to the exquisite anticipation Balin felt at being reunited with his favorite student. After twenty long years, he would finally be able to finish the magnificent task of completely destroying her beautiful soul.

*

Ron looked up from his Divination homework as they all sat in the Gryffindor common room. "What are you reading, Harry?" 

"A book Professor Stanley gave me."

Hermione interrupted her own studies for the upcoming O.W.L.s (which were still a whole two months away) and read the cover. "That book wasn't on the list."

"I told you, she just gave it to me to read," Harry replied. "Thought it might be helpful."

"But it's _her book! She's bound to test us on it!" Hermione frantically dug through her stack of parchments. She pulled out one and shoved it in Harry's face. "See—not on the list!"_

"Hermione, if Stanley was going to test us on it, she would have told us so," Ron said, rolling his eyes. "Relax for once, will you?"

"Well, Harry, if she's not going to test us on it, you really should be studying for O.W.L.s," Hermione admonished. "Honestly, the two of you haven't done a bit of work so far, you really should get started."

Ron snickered. "And tear myself away from these thrilling astrological charts?"

Harry's two best friends were as stressed as he was about Voldemort and Balin, but they were dealing with it in their own unique ways. Hermione chose to concentrate on over-_over-preparing for O.W.L.s. Ron was taking the fatalistic approach—at least on the outside. Under the table, Harry could see his friend's leg bouncing up and down in suppressed panic that was bound to surface sooner or later._

The fifth-year Gryffindors weren't scheduled for another Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson until the day after tomorrow, but Harry felt the need to have another talk with Professor Stanley after reading her book. There were others at Hogwarts who had been hurt by Death Eaters, but Harry suspected that Stanley had suffered as much in her own way as he had. It was somehow comforting to have someone like that to talk to. He visited her in her classroom the next day after school.

"I think I understand why it didn't sell very well," Harry said as he handed _The Soulless Ones back to her. When Stanley looked mildly offended, he added, "I only meant that it's very depressing."_

Stanley grinned. "Imagine having to write it." She motioned for him to sit, then settled on the edge of her desk.

Harry flopped down and heaved a weary sigh. "How can you stand it, Professor?"

She laughed kindly. "How can you—of all people—ask me that? How do you stand it?"

He shrugged. "I suppose I don't really have any choice."

"You always have a choice, Harry," she told him. "You could hide under the bed. I've often thought of doing that myself."

He allowed himself a small smile.

Professor Stanley hopped off her desk and took a seat next to his. "It's been said that we are given only the challenges that we are ready for. We're both still alive—I find that very encouraging."

Before he could respond, Harry suddenly felt a burning on his forehead and put his hand to his scar. "Ouch."

She regarded him with concern. "Are you all right?"

Only a few people knew that his scar acted as a sort of Voldemort alarm, but he couldn't see any harm in telling Stanley. "My scar hurts sometimes when Voldemort is nearby or feeling homicidal," he said grimly. "It's been hurting a lot lately." He was quite used to people staring at his scar, but this was the first time Stanley had done so. 

"Do you ever have dreams—about Voldemort?" she asked with an odd expression on her face.

"Sometimes." It took him a moment to realize that she seemed almost relieved at his admission. "Do you have dreams, too?"

"About Balin, but just recently," she replied. "It's rather nice not being the only one."

_Very nice indeed, thought Harry, grinning. "Well, at least you don't have a scar." When she looked away sadly, he knew he'd said the wrong thing. "Do you have a scar, Professor?"_

Stanley paused, then glanced at the classroom door to make sure it was closed. "This has to stay between us, Harry. You can't even tell Ron or Hermione."

He nodded. "I promise."

Stanley unbuttoned the top three buttons of her robe and pulled back the fabric, revealing the area above her heart.

Harry gasped. Suddenly his lightening-bolt scar didn't seem so bad.

*

Veronica absentmindedly drew a heart on the essay of first-year Hufflepuff, Stephen Nichols, before she realized what she was doing. She cursed herself in disgust, then took out her wand and pointed it at her doodle. "_Erase!" Once again, she attempted to concentrate on her work, but decided it was pointless until she got the doodles on paper and out of her head. _

She pulled out a clean sheet of parchment and proceeded to be as ridiculous as she could be. She drew a dozen hearts with the initials 'S & V' in the center, she sketched stick figures depicting herself and Severus holding hands, and then for the ultimate bit of silliness, she wrote:

_Veronica Snape._

Veronica wrinkled her nose. "Gods, that's bloody awful." She crossed it out and wrote it again, this time with a little addition:

_Veronica Stanley-Snape._

"Oh, that's much better!" _As if __he'd let me hyphenate it. She laughed out loud at her own foolishness. __As if the subject will ever come up! "I think that's enough madness for one day." She crumpled the parchment into a ball and went to throw it on the fire, when she felt a sudden burning in her chest that was so excruciating, it brought her to her knees._

Using her chair as support, Veronica pulled herself up and stumbled into the bathroom. Her hands were trembling so violently she couldn't unbutton the buttons of her robe, so she ripped it open to reveal the Dark Mark above her heart. As she feared, it wasn't just a shadowy outline anymore, it was burning blood-red. As she watched it, it turned jet-black. Tears were streaming down her face, but not just from the pain. The physical torment she could endure, but the compulsion that went along with it would be her undoing. She had to go to Balin. Her need to find him was as frantic as was her need to find her mother when she was a four-year-old girl and had gotten separated from her in crowded Muggle Manchester—only this was a thousand times worse.

"But I don't know where you are!" she sobbed desperately.

_Leave Hogwarts and I'll lead you to me._

"Then I am special to you."

_Yes, my angel._

The pain became so unbearable she almost passed out, and the call became even more urgent. She thought of the Aurors surrounding the school, then spied her Nimbus Two Thousand Two propped up in the corner.

_That's my clever girl._

Veronica threw open her window and was hit with a blast of freezing night air. She mounted her broom and flew out the window, the bitter winter wind ripping through the thin fabric of her robe, which did nothing to cool the burning in her chest. Within seconds of taking the air, she was flying at full speed over the lake and towards the main gate. She heard a shout below her. 

"BY THE AUTHORITY OF THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC," boomed an Auror with the aid of a Sonorus Spell, "I ORDER YOU TO LAND IMMEDIATELY, OR I WILL BE FORCED TO FIRE UPON YOU!"

_Almost there…___

"_STUPEFY!" _

The Stunning Spell hit Veronica just as she passed the Apparition barrier. Her broom flew out from under her when she lost consciousness. She hurtled downward, but Disapparated just before she hit the ground.

*

Veronica found herself lying on her back on a cold stone floor, the pain in her chest as well as the compulsion now gone. She blinked and then opened her eyes fully. Above her loomed Professor Balin.

Balin leaned over her and smiled wickedly. "What a pleasure it is to see you again, Veronica. Did you miss me?"

Veronica let out a strangled cry as she half-crawled, half-ran away from him to the other side of the room. When she heard his mocking laughter, something clicked inside of her. She pulled out her wand and spun around. "_AVADA KED—"_

"_Expelliarmus!"_

The casually uttered Disarming Spell had not come from Balin, who had an unpleasantly surprised look on his face, his own wand only half-drawn. Veronica's wand flew out of her hands and into the pale, spider-like fingers of a figure sitting on a sumptuous chair on a stone dais…

_Voldemort!_

"Oh dear," she breathed.

Voldemort would have raised an eyebrow if he had one. "Is that all you can say, 'oh dear'? How very disappointing. I must say that curse you almost cast was worthy of an Auror." Voldemort turned to Balin. "It was a good thing I was here, Rupert, or you'd be dead right now."

Something in his tone made Veronica think that Voldemort would not have been too terribly upset if she had killed Balin. _Well, that's encouraging._

Voldemort motioned for her to sit in the plainer chair next to his. "Would you like some tea, Veronica—may I call you Veronica?"

"Certainly," she said, laughing nervously. "May I call you Tom?" Veronica had spent many years as a Dark Arts researcher making sport of the Dark Lord, but now that she was finally in his daunting presence, she didn't feel much like calling him a Snake-faced Git and she got the distinct impression that she shouldn't have called him Tom.

His red eyes narrowed. "You didn't tell me she was such an insolent little creature."

"She seems to have grown worse over the years," Balin sneered. "Would you like me to torture her now, My Lord?"

"Where are your manners? Not before we've had our tea." Voldemort snapped his fingers. Veronica only then noticed that they were not alone. A short, balding wizard with watery eyes, not much older than herself, nodded curtly and rushed out of the room, apparently to fetch the tea. She also finally noticed the largest snake she had ever seen slithering towards the dais. Was it her imagination, or was the snake looking at her with hunger in its eyes?

The younger wizard brought in the tea tray a few moments later and poured two cups. The unreality of the situation was almost funny. Veronica briefly debated whether or not to accept anything to drink from Voldemort, but as both cups had been poured from the same teapot, there was little chance it had been adulterated. She wasn't so much worried about poison as she was about Veritaserum. She didn't know enough about the doings of the Order of the Phoenix to compromise their cause, but she did know enough to seal Severus' fate. 

As they drank their tea in uncomfortable silence—uncomfortable for Veronica, that is—she tried to ignore Balin's lecherous stares and refused to even contemplate what he and Voldemort had planned for her. The Dark Lord put down his teacup and used Veronica's own wand to pull back the fabric of her robe so he could see the Dark Mark more clearly. "Careless work, Rupert. It's already fading to barely an outline."

"Perhaps it is because she was unworthy of receiving it," Balin offered.

"Perhaps it is because you were unworthy of bestowing it," Voldemort shot back angrily.

"You walked right into that one, Rupert," Veronica quipped.

Voldemort laughed.

Suddenly, Veronica felt herself being yanked out of the chair as if by an invisible hook. She flew the short distance across the room to Balin, who clamped his hand tightly around her throat. Veronica clawed at his hand and kicked her feet which were dangling several inches above the ground, finally making contact with his shin. Balin reversed the force of the spell, throwing her across the room and hard against the stone wall.

"Enough!" Voldemort rose and pulled a lethal looking dagger from his robe. "I think it's time we got down to business." He stood over Veronica menacingly. "Is Severus Snape in love with you?"

She broke out into panicky, high-pitched giggles. "Severus? In love with me?! Great gods, no! We can't stand the sight of each other." 

Voldemort put the dagger to her throat. "I'm beginning to understand why you're a teacher instead of an Auror. You are an astonishingly bad liar. Wormtail!"

The short, balding wizard rushed forward.

"Hold out her right hand."

Wormtail reached for her with a gleaming silver hand and wrenched Veronica's hand out in front of her. She tried to pull away, but Wormtail's grip was too powerful. She was afraid he was going to break her wrist, but she was more concerned with what Voldemort was about to cut off. She shut her eyes tightly and steeled herself for the pain…

***


	13. Snape's Choice

**Chapter Thirteen: Snape's Choice**

Peter Pettigrew had cut off his finger, then later had severed his own right hand in the service of the Dark Lord. It was rather nice to see someone else suffering for a change. He held onto Veronica Stanley's wrist effortlessly with his powerful magical silver hand as Voldemort sawed slowly through her right forefinger. Wormtail was quite happy that Veronica was doing everything in her power not to scream, for if she had done so, it would have gone right into his ear. She had bit into her bottom lip so hard it was bleeding, tears were rolling down her cheeks in a veritable torrent, but still not a sound. 

Apparently, Voldemort found her silence somewhat bothersome. He paused and said ominously, "Veronica, half the fun of torture is hearing the victim's screams. I suggest you start directly or I will cut out your tongue—then you'll wish that you _could_ scream. Have I made myself quite clear?"

Wormtail cringed at the ear-splitting shriek she emitted in response. 

Voldemort grinned a snaky grin. "That's more like it."

Wormtail couldn't help but notice the looks Balin was giving Veronica as well. He seemed torn between delight at being able to watch the spectacle and frustration over not being able to participate. There was also an expression of unfathomable lust in his eyes. Balin never looked at Isela that way. Wormtail couldn't understand it. Veronica was modestly pretty, but a rather small and insignificant woman, particularly in comparison to the voluptuous Spanish vixen. 

Voldemort finally completed his gruesome task, then seared the end of the jagged wound to staunch the bleeding. ("Wouldn't want her to bleed to death."). Voldemort gazed at his bloodied hands with some annoyance and ordered Wormtail to get a basin of water and some towels. 

When Wormtail returned, Voldemort wrapped the finger in one of the towels and handed it to Balin. Then he washed and dried his own pale hands and turned back to Wormtail. "Wrap her hand up in something and then lock her up with our other two guests."

Not having proper bandages, Wormtail ripped a piece of fabric from the hem of her blue robe and wrapped it roughly around her hand causing Veronica to whimper pitifully. Wormtail looked to Voldemort for approval, but the Dark Lord had lost interest and was now talking to Balin. With a long-suffering sigh, Wormtail pulled Veronica to her feet and half dragged her out of the audience chamber.   
  
Balin called after him. "Pettigrew, make it clear they are to guard her only. _No kissing_!"

Veronica seemed a little confused, but was still a bit dazed from her ordeal. In fact, as Wormtail was taking her away, she said something rather odd about him being "the vomit-flavored bean boy."

*****

Severus sat on the sofa in Veronica's room gripping the battered Nimbus Two Thousand Two that had been recovered by the Auror who had stunned her before she Disapparated in mid air. "He would never have known she was teaching at Hogwarts if it weren't for me."

Dumbledore put a hand on his shoulder in a fatherly manner. "He might have called her no matter what. You can't blame yourself."

Severus thought, _I don't blame myself, I blame you, but remained silent._

"I've asked Remus Lupin to take over her classes—" Dumbledore held up his hand when Severus started to protest. "Temporarily, until we get her back. He was the only qualified teacher available on such short notice."

Severus laughed mirthlessly. "Get her back? I'm never going to see her again and you know it."

"No, I don't know it and neither do you." Dumbledore's eyes traveled to the floor, underneath her desk. "What's this?" He winked an eye and a crumpled piece of parchment flew into his hands. He unfolded it, smiled sadly and handed it to Severus.

Severus gazed at Veronica's childish drawings of hearts, stick-figure lovers and the practice signatures of her name followed by his own (_it's just like her to want to hyphenate it). He felt his throat tighten. "I resign," he said in barely a whisper._

"What was that, Severus?" Dumbledore asked, straining to hear.

"I said, I resign," he declared more loudly. "You can bloody well get someone else to do your dirty work for you, because I'm done spying for you." 

"I suspect this decision has been coming for some time."

Severus jumped to his feet and pointed an accusing finger at Dumbledore. "None of this would have happened if you had protected her twenty years ago like you were supposed to! Why didn't you kill him when you had the chance?"

"I've already explained that to you," Dumbledore replied, obviously trying to keep his tone calm. "I had to do what I thought was best."

Severus started to pace the room in agitation, looking about, trying to find something of hers to hold onto that would provide some solace. He glanced at her bed and swallowed hard. "We never even…"

"She still alive," Dumbledore said with mixed enthusiasm. "You know that."

Severus had tried not to ponder what perversions Balin was even now subjecting her to. He was supposed to protect her, but instead he had downplayed Balin's interest in Veronica because of his own jealousy. Why had he let her out of his sight? 

"Do you think Voldemort or Balin knows the nature of your relationship with her?"

"No, I don't believe so," Severus replied.

"Well, then you may have a chance to rescue her," Dumbledore said with a little hope in his voice. "When Voldemort calls you again—I'll understand."

Severus nodded grimly. If he tried to save Veronica, it could very well mean both their deaths. And he would have to do it alone.

Just then, Minerva popped her head and half of her body out of the fireplace, startling both men. "Mr. Stanley's just arrived. He's waiting in your office, Albus." 

Dumbledore took off his half-moon glasses and rubbed his eyes. "Thank you, Minerva."

"Severus," she said gently, "don't give up hope."

He grunted brusquely, then left Veronica's room followed by Dumbledore. The Headmaster's office was one of the few rooms in the castle that could not be accessed through the fireplace, so the pair made their way to the gargoyle guarding the secret entrance, then up the spiral staircase and through the polished oak door. 

Mr. Stanley bolted out of his chair as they entered the room. "Have you heard anything?"

"Not yet, Gilbert," Dumbledore said. "I'm so sorry."

"But you do have Aurors out looking for her, right?"

Severus folded his arms across his chest and almost glared at the Headmaster.

"We're almost certain she's being held at Voldemort's lair," Dumbledore answered carefully. "Unfortunately, we have no idea where that is—yet. Right now, all we can do is wait."

"I don't understand," Mr. Stanley cried fretfully. "How could this have happened?" 

"Veronica was lured away from Hogwarts by the most powerful sort of Dark Magic," Severus explained. "There was little she could do to fight it." If he had foreseen Balin's eventual use of Veronica's Dark Mark, he could have trained her to fight the call as he had done on many occasions. It was the fact that she was unprepared for it that forced her into answering. As much as he wanted to lay the blame at Dumbledore's feet, he knew that he was ultimately responsible. Apparently, he wasn't the only one.

Mr. Stanley's kind eyes flashed with anger. "You swore you would protect her!"

"Sir," Severus said to Dumbledore, "might I have a word alone with Mr. Stanley?"

"Of course." Dumbledore immediately left the two men alone.

Severus met Mr. Stanley's eyes. "I will get her back." He surprised himself with the sudden fierce determination in his voice.

"And how do you figure you'll do that, Professor? Dumbledore just told me no one knows where Voldemort is."

After a moment's hesitation, Severus rolled up his left sleeve. Mr. Stanley gasped at the sight of the black Dark Mark emblazoned on his forearm and took a few steps back.

"You're one of them," Stanley breathed, eyes wide.

"I used to be—Voldemort still thinks I am. I work as a spy for Dumbledore. No Auror will be able to get to Voldemort, but I can."

Mr. Stanley's eyes narrowed. "Tell me, Professor, does Vee's kidnapping have anything to do with her association with you?"

Severus lowered his eyes. "Quite possibly."

"Well then," Stanley replied angrily, "you just get her back and then you stay the hell away from my little girl! Haven't you people done enough to her?" He stormed from Dumbledore's office leaving Severus alone with Fawkes the phoenix. 

Severus sat down wearily as Fawkes hopped from his perch and onto the desk next to him. The bird gently rubbed his head against his cheek in sympathy. Severus allowed himself a small smile and scratched the bird's head. "Thanks."

*

Veronica had a number of problems to deal with as she sat on the floor of the cold, dank cell, but surely the most pressing were the two dementors guarding her. Every ounce of happiness, and more importantly, her will to fight, was quickly being sucked out of her and she had no wand to cast a Patronus Charm. That, in and of itself, wouldn't necessarily be a problem; she had developed a technique to cast even difficult spells without a wand, and though the Patronus Charm would be the most complex she had ever attempted, her intense need and her own fear should be enough to power the spell.

Unfortunately, her wand hand, the place where the magical energy had to flow out of her, was damaged. Veronica hugged her injured right hand tightly to her body and tried to ignore the agonizing throbbing that shot through her entire arm. It wasn't as if she could use her left hand instead. It would be as effective as trying to read backwards and she probably would only have one shot at the charm. After mulling over her very limited options for a few minutes, she decided to trust her body to know where to let the magic out and wracked her brain for her happiest thought. She couldn't drive the dementors away as there was nowhere for them to go in the locked cell, but she could hopefully keep them at bay for a while. 

She struggled to her feet. Naturally, Veronica's thoughts immediately turned to Severus, but all she could think of was, _I'll __never see him again. She cursed herself angrily. __HAPPY thoughts, Vee! Er, let's see…doing his hair…Christmas morning…the broom and his note…our first kiss…HE LOVES ME! Not one, but the whole jumble of happy thoughts swirled around in her mind until they amassed into palpable energy. She pushed the pain in her hand away and became aware of the ambient energy around her. She absorbed it through her skin and added it to the whirlwind of happiness she was building to a crescendo— _

"_EXPECTO __PATRONUM!" The energy that would normally have come out though her right hand, took a different path. She felt her mouth being forced open, then a silver mist came out of it with a loud belch._

For many people, a Patronus remained the same no matter how many times one cast it; for others like her, the Patronus changed shape depending on the happy thought one used. In the past, she had conjured a large sow, a small dragon, and—her favorite—a baby wooly mammoth. This time, the silver mist coalesced into a huge serpent, even bigger than Voldemort's Nagini. The most extraordinary and wonderful thing about it was that this serpent had sly black eyes, just like Severus. For a moment, Veronica forgot about the pain in her hand and cried with joy at this most comforting sight.

The dementors inched away from her and her Patronus, into a far corner of the cell. The silver serpent hissed at the cowering, rotting creatures, then curled around Veronica protectively. To her considerable relief, the Patronus did not dissipate, most likely because the dementors still posed a threat. Physically and emotionally spent, she doubted she could conjure another if this one faded. She sunk back down to the cold floor and leaned her back against the wall. She tried to stay awake, but finally slipped into a fitful slumber from pure exhaustion.

*

The next morning at breakfast, Harry and his friends spoke in subdued tones while they waited for Dumbledore to arrive and make the official announcement of what all of them already knew. The most personal incident since the death of Cedric Diggory had occurred with Professor Stanley's kidnapping. Harry couldn't help but notice that Professor Sprout and the Hufflepuff table looked particularly disheartened—a couple of the younger girls were even crying. The only two people who looked more miserable were Snape and Neville Longbottom. Even Ginny Weasley's sympathetic attentions did nothing to buoy Neville's spirits. The Slytherins, on the other hand—particularly Draco Malfoy and his cronies—appeared delighted. 

Professor Sinistra was back in her old spot at the staff table next to Snape, leaving the seat next to Sprout unoccupied. The man who followed Dumbledore through the teachers' entrance to the Great Hall explained the reason for the change in seating arrangements. A very grave Remus Lupin took his place next to Sprout. He caught Harry's eye and gave him a half-hearted smile.

Normally, seeing Dumbledore standing at his place at the staff table was enough to quiet the Great Hall immediately, but this morning he was forced to silence the suddenly amplified chatter by tapping his glass of pumpkin juice. "As most of you have already heard," he began with a compassionate glance at the Hufflepuff table, "Professor Stanley was lured away from Hogwarts last night by Lord Voldemort and his followers. We have reason to believe that she is still alive and we are doing everything in our power to get her back."

Harry noticed with surprise that Snape glowered at Dumbledore for just a second. Snape was openly unpleasant to just about everyone, but even Harry knew that he had the utmost respect for Dumbledore. Perhaps Snape didn't feel the Headmaster was doing enough to rescue Stanley.      

"In the meantime," Dumbledore continued, "Professor Lupin will be taking over Professor Stanley's classes. Events have quickly made Defense Against the Dark Arts more important than ever, so I felt that a lapse in the study of the subject would not serve the best interests of the student body. In other words, keep your complaints to yourself." With that, he took his seat. Even Dumbledore's nerves seemed to be on edge with that abrupt end to his announcement and the almost sour look on his usually serene face

After breakfast, Harry, Ron and Hermione left the Great Hall, but instead of heading for the Transfiguration classroom, Harry left his two friends and ran to catch up with Professor Lupin. 

"Professor Lupin," Harry said breathlessly. "Can I speak to you for a moment?"

"Of course, Harry," Lupin replied. "But just for a few minutes, I don't want you to be late for class." When Lupin let them into Professor Stanley's office, Harry looked at him questioningly.

"I feel a bit funny about using this office," Lupin told him, "but I do need her lesson plans and there's a stack of papers that need to be graded. Hopefully, I won't be here long enough to need my own office." He motioned for Harry to sit down. "Now, what can I do for you?"

Harry hesitated slightly. He was about to break his promise to Stanley, but he reminded himself that he was doing it for the right reasons. "I think I know how Balin got to Professor Stanley."

Lupin raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"He burned the Dark Mark into her when she was a student." Harry waited for the look of shock on Lupin's face that didn't materialize. _I guess he already knows. "Balin must have used that to call her away," Harry continued. "She would never have left on her own. Is there some way to reverse it? Maybe we can use it to call her back—"_

"Harry, I think it's admirable that you want to help Professor Stanley, but I'm going to ask you to please let Professor Dumbledore and Snape handle this. There's really nothing you can do to help right now. Besides, we can ill afford to lose you too." Lupin glanced at Stanley's family photos and smiled sadly. "I don't know Veronica very well, but I do know that she would never want you to put yourself at risk for her sake—under _any circumstances. Understood?" _

Harry nodded and rose with a sigh. For some strange reason, he suddenly thought about his father and what he'd be willing to do—what he had done—to save him and his mother. "Professor Snape really loves her, doesn't he?"

"Very much." Lupin grinned wryly. "And we both know how much Snape hates to lose. If anyone can get her back, he can."

*

The Gryffindors let it slip during Potions that they had not used the Anti-Bully Charm before class as they usually did. It seemed cruel to not let Snape have some outlet for his misery during the current crisis, but Snape didn't take them up on their offer. When Neville melted yet another cauldron, the boy still looked so dejected over Stanley's kidnapping, that Snape didn't have the heart to yell at him.

After class, Harry and the rest of the Gryffindors waited for the Slytherins to leave before they exited the classroom. None of them wanted to hear the Slytherins gloat over the loss of one of their favorite teachers. Unfortunately, Malfoy and his nasty group lagged behind the others, so the Gryffindors were forced to listen to pug-faced Pansy Parkinson's spiteful chatter.

"Draco, did you see Neville Longbottom's face? I thought that sniveling little fool would burst out into tears at any moment. All because his ugly little girlfriend got kidnapped—boo hoo," Pansy cackled maliciously. "I'm ever so glad she's gone, but now we have the werewolf again. Who does Dumbledore think he is anyway?"

"The Headmaster, Pansy, but not for long if Father has anything to say about it," Draco said with a smirk.

Crabbe snickered. "You're going to get your dad to 'take care' of him like he did Stanley, eh?"

Draco spun on him. "Shut up you idiot!"

Unfortunately, for Malfoy, the damage was done. "Do you know what happened to her, Malfoy?" Harry demanded.

"Why would I know anything, Potter?" he replied with a nervous sneer.

"Maybe your father knows," Ron burst out angrily. "We _know what he is!"_

"Ron!" cried Hermione.

"Shut your mouth, Weasley," Draco ordered.

Ron brought himself up to his full height. "Make me."

Malfoy jerked his head towards his thugs, Crabbe and Goyle, who immediately came forward. Then someone yelled, "_PETRIFICUS TOTALUS!" Both Crabbe and Goyle stiffened and crashed to the ground._

They all spun around in surprise. Neville Longbottom still had his wand pointed at the two fallen thugs with the most determined look on his face that any of them had ever seen. Without lowering his wand, he met Ron's eyes. "Get him."

"You don't have to tell me twice!" Ron grabbed Draco by the front of his robes, just as the Slytherin boy tried to flee. Before Draco could reach for his wand, Ron punched him hard in the face. Draco fell backward, and Ron was on him like a shot.

"Where is she, Malfoy?" But Ron wouldn't let him answer, he just kept punching him over and over again. Harry knew his friend's anger wasn't just about Stanley. He attempted to pull Ron off Malfoy before he killed him.

"You best be careful, Weasley," Malfoy croaked in a malevolent whisper. "Wouldn't want anything to happen to your mummy and daddy."

Ron immediately got off Malfoy and stood there in terrified shock as Professors Snape and McGonagall appeared on the scene. 

"Harry," Ron breathed, "he just threatened my mum and dad."

*

Severus revived Crabbe and Goyle, then with McGonagall's help, marched the guilty parties into the empty Transfiguration classroom. A bruised and bloodied Draco Malfoy related his version of events, followed by Weasley and Potter. When Snape heard of Longbottom's unbelievable casting of a double Body-Bind Curse, he couldn't help thinking how very proud Veronica would be of him.

Even though Severus secretly rejoiced over Weasley's pummeling of Malfoy, he didn't dare show him preferential treatment over his own students. Apparently, this didn't sit too well with Mr. Weasley. 

"Didn't you hear me?" Weasley yelled at Severus. "Malfoy's father is responsible for Professor Stanley's disappearance! Don't you even care?"

"Mr. Weasley!" McGonagall cried.

"How_ dare you__ raise your voice to me!" Severus replied in a low, deadly tone._

"First Cedric, then Christmas Night, all those Muggles in the train station, now Voldemort's taking teachers off Hogwarts grounds! That…" Weasley pointed at Malfoy, his hand shaking with fury. "…threatened my parents! Who's next?"

Malfoy snorted, then winced in pain. "You're hallucinating Weasley."

"I heard it too," Potter declared.

"Quiet, all of you!" McGonagall boomed. She turned to Severus. "I suggest we show leniency given the situation. Considering recent events, it's a wonder more students haven't broken under the strain."

"Very well, Professor McGonagall," Severus said as he gave Malfoy an evil stare. "I'll leave the punishment to you, while I escort Mr. Malfoy to the hospital wing."

McGonagall eyed the injured boy unsympathetically. "I think that's an excellent idea, Professor Snape."

Draco backed away from him. "I-I think I can manage on my own, sir."

"It's no trouble." Severus grabbed the boy's arm tightly enough to make Draco grimace. "I wouldn't want you to suddenly lose consciousness on your way there. Come along."

Severus dragged the boy into an empty corridor and threw him roughly against the stone wall. "If anything happens to her and I find that you or your father had anything to do with it, I will kill you so completely that there won't be anything left to bury." Severus was gratified to see more fear than defiance in the boy's gray eyes, but it didn't bring him any closer to finding Veronica. And now Malfoy had threatened the Weasleys—at least he could do something about that.

After Snape literally dropped off Malfoy in the hospital wing, he made his way to Veronica's office. He felt his face twist into a vindictive sneer when he saw Lupin sitting at her desk, but attempted a more even expression when he reminded himself that Lupin would most likely be Veronica's first choice as a temporary replacement for her. 

Lupin self-consciously jumped out of the chair. "Severus, I was just grading papers—"

"Sit down, Lupin," Severus growled. "I just came in here for a file." He could feel Lupin watching him as he rifled through Veronica's filing cabinet for the Ward Spell. He found it and magically copied the spell onto a blank piece of parchment. At the bottom of the copy, he wrote a brief explanation to Arthur and Molly Weasley, folded it up and stuck it in an envelope. Without a word to Lupin, he shoved the file back in its place and made his way to the door.

"Severus, if there's anything I can do…"

Severus spun around and replied resolutely, "I will get her back." 

Lupin smiled broadly. "I know you will."

Severus snorted and made his way to the Owlery. He climbed the stone steps to the top of the West Tower and entered the cold and drafty, circular stone room filled with hundreds of owls nestled on wooden perches. He motioned to a tawny owl who flew over to a low perch and stuck out its foot so Severus could tie the letter to it. The owl immediately took flight and was passed by a large brown barn owl carrying a letter and a small package, which it dropped in Severus' hands, then flew away. Severus put the package in his pocket and opened the letter. It was from Voldemort. His pulse quickened and his stomach instantly tied itself into a painful knot.

_Dear Severus,_

_I'm certain you've already figured out that I am holding your beloved Veronica, but you may not have figured out why. You see, despite your most excellent potion-making skills, I'm afraid your services are no longer required, save for one trifling little favor I need you to do for me. Bring me Harry Potter and you may have the woman back. In two days time, I will call for you. If you do not deliver the boy within three hours of my call, I will kill her. No, on second thought, I'll give her over to Rupert for a few weeks and after she's begged for death for a while, then I'll kill her._

_In order to further convince you of my veracity, I have enclosed one of Veronica's fingers. She is very lucky it wasn't her tongue. Impertinent little creature. I'm afraid I don't quite understand the attraction. She is a rather mousy little thing, though Rupert is quite anxious to get reacquainted with her for some reason. _

_Yours very truly,_

_LV___

Hands suddenly trembling, Severus pulled the small package from his pocket and opened it gingerly. Hundreds of owls were startled from their perches by his thunderous cry of rage. He then stumbled to the stone wall of the Owlery and retched for several minutes. When he recovered, he hurried from the West Tower and made his way to his private lab to create a Dead or Alive Charm.

Severus quickly mixed together the necessary ingredients in a small cauldron, then lit a fire underneath it. As he waited for the cauldron's contents to come to a boil, he clipped the nail of Veronica's severed finger to the quick while angry tears stung his eyes, and then threw the fingernail into the mixture. Almost instantly, all the colors of the spectrum played over the surface of the liquid. He doused the fire and dropped in a clear, round crystal about the size of a Golden Snitch. After a few moments, the liquid evaporated leaving the crystal—glowing a rosy pink—at the bottom of the cauldron. As long as it glowed pink, she was still alive; as soon as it clouded over black…

Severus put the crystal in his pocket, grateful for this tie to Veronica. He took her severed finger, put it in a jar of Freezing Fluid and locked it up in a cabinet. Then, with forced calm, he sat down behind his desk and considered how he would go about kidnapping Harry Potter.__

***


	14. Fools Rush In

**Chapter Fourteen: Fools Rush In**

When Veronica finally awoke from her restless sleep, all she could see through the slit high in the wall of her cell was darkness broken by dim starlight. Had she been asleep for a few hours or for a whole day? Casting the Patronus Charm without a wand had completely sapped her strength, so it wouldn't have surprised her if a whole day or more had passed. Thankfully, her Patronus serpent was still there, giving off a comforting silver glow, and keeping the dementors to their side of the cell.

It was time to take stock of her situation, but she was having trouble focusing-not for the pain in her right hand that had settled to a dull throb, but the increasingly uncomfortable pressure in her bladder. She almost laughed when she thought of how inconsiderate it was of her captors not to give her a chamber pot. "Perhaps this is Voldemort's Infamous Bladder Torture?" she joked to her motley companions.

Veronica longingly eyed one corner of the cell near the two dementors, but crossed her legs instead. She tried to set her mind to figuring out why Voldemort was using her to get to Severus, but the call of nature proved stronger. She met the sly black eyes of her Patronus and flushed with embarrassment. It followed her to the corner of the cell next to the dementors, but turned its head away while she took care of business.

After that, she was able to settle back down against the wall in relative comfort. Veronica thought of several possible reasons why Voldemort was holding her here, but only two seemed viable. Had Voldemort asked Severus to kill Dumbledore-the only wizard alive besides Balin who was a credible threat to him? Veronica knew in her heart that Severus would never do such a thing, even for her. Severus loved Dumbledore like a father. The other possibility seemed the most likely, but also the most unsettling: Voldemort wanted Severus to deliver Harry Potter to him in exchange for her. As soon as she allowed herself to think it, she knew it had to be the truth. _Oh, gods... please, Severus, please don't... She scrambled to her feet. "I've got to get out of here."_

Veronica stood in front of the heavy oak door and gathered up all the energy she could muster. "_Reducto!" She expected the energy to come out her mouth as it had when she cast her Patronus, but instead it emerged-painfully-from her wand hand. The door bulged outward, then snapped back into place, sending her flying backward. In her alarm over what Severus might be planning for Harry, she had stupidly overlooked the presence of powerful charms and wards around the door preventing her escape. Before she could consider another way out, Veronica heard the bolt being slid back on the other side, then the door creaked open and Professor Balin entered her cell._

At the sight of her old professor, Veronica cried out and scuttled away from him to the far corner of the cell, her Patronus providing a constant barrier between her and the dementors. The dementors, somehow sensing an escape route despite their blindness, started to glide quickly towards the open door, but Balin stayed them with a word. He then pointed his wand at the door and slammed it shut.

Balin smiled as he approached her slowly, the glowing serpent lighting the wanton excitement in his eyes. The Patronus swung around and hissed at him, but it had no power to drive him away. Veronica's heart sank as her back finally bumped up against the far wall. Between the spells she had cast and her injury, her strength seemed to have left her. She had no energy left to fight him; still, she had to try. Veronica unwrapped her wand hand and pointed it in Balin's direction. "_Protectio!" A spark came out of her hand, causing her to wince._

He took another step forward, but was blocked by an invisible barrier. Veronica closed her eyes and breathed a sigh of relief. Balin laughed with delight. "Very good, my angel. One of your inventions?"

"Just one of many," Veronica replied shakily, tucking her injured hand close to her body. "I suggest you stay the hell away from me!"

"Or you'll do what, exactly?" Balin asked, not the least bit troubled by her feeble warning. He snapped his fingers and took another step toward her, the invisible barrier suddenly gone. 

"I've done a little checking up on you and I must say I am most impressed: former top Dark Arts researcher at the Madragora Institute for Magical Research; groundbreaking experiments in wandless magic-" He regarded her Patronus appreciatively. "Not to mention, a respected author and lecturer. You spent your whole life trying to understand me and my world. If I had a soul, I swear I would be deeply touched." He grinned lecherously. "Instead, I'm just incredibly randy."

Veronica's breath caught in her throat as an involuntary wave of anticipation fluttered in her stomach and traveled downward. _No, I don't want this! she thought frantically, as if trying to convince herself. She raised her wand hand again, but Balin seized it, pressing his thumb into the stump that used to be her right forefinger. Veronica screamed in anguish._

Balin grabbed her around the waist and pulled her close. "You see, my dear Veronica, no matter what little tricks you come up with, I'll always be more powerful. You'll never be able to beat me." He kissed her hard on the mouth, wrapping his arms around her even tighter, his fingers digging painfully into her sides. 

Veronica felt tears spring from her eyes as she tried to release herself from his grasp. _How could I have ever wanted this? How could I have missed him when I had Severus? As Balin placed deep, excruciating bites on her neck, she stopped struggling and put her hands on his shoulders. "There's one more trick I know," she whispered in his ear._

"What's that, my angel?"

She brought up her knee as hard as she could into his groin. Balin backed away from her, doubled over in agony. "Learned that in a Muggle self-defense course for women. Never touch me again, you son of a bitch!" Before he could recover, Veronica ran to the door, but of course it was locked.

"_CRUCIO!"_

Veronica collapsed to the floor, but tried not to fight the curse, thereby lessening its effects slightly. After a few moments, the blinding pain stopped. She turned over onto her back and saw Balin limping toward her. Then she saw ropes shooting from the end of his wand. 

"I don't mind doing this the hard way," he told her with a cruel smirk. "In fact, I rather like it the hard way." 

She tried to rise, but the ropes entangled her arms and legs and threw her spread-eagled onto the cold stone floor. Then, Veronica heard the door being flung open.

"Rupert!" Voldemort boomed with rage. "I told you that you can have her only _after I have the boy!" _

The ropes binding Veronica's limbs were instantly released. She jumped to her feet and ran to the far corner of the cell, her Patronus surrounding her protectively. _Oh, gods, I was right! Voldemort is after Harry!_

Balin shot Veronica a look of anger and frustration, then made for the door.

"Disobey me one more time, Rupert..." Voldemort left his threat unspoken. The Dark Lord then glanced at Veronica's serpent Patronus, then turned back to Balin. "Take the dementors and lock them up in the next cell, then tell Wormtail to get our guest something to eat and drink. I understand you're a vegetarian, Veronica, is that correct?"

Veronica nodded and lowered her head in despair. She almost told him not to bother, since she was not the least bit hungry, but she knew that she needed all of her strength for the ordeal that was sure to come. As soon as Balin led the dementors out, her Patronus disappeared. Despite Voldemort's odd concern for her dietary preferences, she was sure he had the dementors moved in order to eliminate her only source of comfort.

Alone and terrified, Veronica prayed that Severus would do the right thing by not delivering Harry to Voldemort. She also hoped that her death would be a quick one.

*

"RONALD WEASLEY, HOW MANY TIMES HAVE I TOLD YOU-NO FIGHTING! I DON'T CARE WHAT THAT BOY SAID, YOUR FATHER AND I DIDN'T RAISE YOU TO ACT LIKE A LITTLE SAVAGE! JUST ONE MORE TOE OUT OF LINE, YOUNG MAN, AND WE'LL HAVE YOU OUT OF THAT SCHOOL SO FAST IT'LL MAKE YOU DIZZY..."

The Howler that had interrupted everyone's breakfast, finally finished screaming at Ron, then burst into flame. Ron had expected it and had taken precautions by nicking some cotton balls from the hospital wing, stuffing them in his ears. The rest of the Great Hall had to make do with their fingers.

Harry noticed that there was another letter in a plain white envelope, also from Mrs. Weasley. "Have a look at that one, Ron."

"WHAT?" Ron yelled.

With a sigh and a shake of her head, Hermione leaned over the table and pulled the cotton out of Ron's ears. 

"Thanks, Hermione." Ron looked down and finally noticed the envelope. "What do you know, another letter." He opened it and read it out loud. "'Dear Ron, your father and I do not want you to worry about what that horrid Draco Malfoy said. We're fine and will continue to be fine, so no more fighting! The world is a violent enough place without you adding to it. A friend sent us a very useful spell yesterday that will protect the Burrow quite nicely-just in case. Love, Mum and Dad. PS: No more fighting!!'" Ron shoved the letter in his robe pocket. "Who do you suppose this friend was?"

"Professor McGonagall?" Hermione offered. "Or maybe Dumbledore? What do you think Harry?"

Harry had stopped listening. He felt someone watching him and turned around, just before Professor Snape looked away. Snape had that familiar look of loathing on his face Harry had almost become accustomed to over the last five years, but there was something else in his expression that Harry couldn't quite identify. Whatever it was, it made him feel very uneasy.

*

While Severus waited for Voldemort's call, he found it impossible to concentrate on his work. At least two or three times an hour, he pulled the Dead or Alive Charm from his pocket to make certain it still glowed pink, but this small tie to Veronica was not enough to ease the pain in his heart. A few days ago, he wouldn't have thought it possible to miss someone _this much. He refused to even think of how he would manage to go on if he failed to rescue her. It just wasn't an option. He would get her back or die trying. Thankfully, the staff-including Dumbledore-stayed out of his way, easily sensing that his mood was more foul than it ever had been before; his students quickly recovered from any feelings of pity they had felt for him and wisely began using the Anti-Bully Charm again before Potions class. _

The night before he was due to betray everything he had worked and fought for by trading Potter for Veronica, Severus wandered the castle for hours, avoiding the one place he wanted to go, but finally, sometime after midnight, he let himself into Veronica's room.

The fire had obviously not been lit since her disappearance, because the room was bitterly cold. He lit it with his wand and sat down on the sofa, self-consciously trying to recall the last time they were cuddling here together. He rose, wandered over to the mantle and picked up a photograph of Veronica and her father. It must have been taken at Christmas, for she was waving her Nimbus Two Thousand Two and smiling happily.

An illicit idea suddenly occurred to him. The Shadow Lover Spell was a mild bit of Dark Magic  Severus knew he shouldn't attempt, but it was something that could possibly provide him with a few moments' comfort. He removed the photograph from its frame and cut it in half using a Severing Charm. He put the half with her father and the frame back on the mantle, holding onto Veronica's half.  He took a few tentative steps towards her wardrobe, then become bolder. He opened the door, reached for the maroon robe he had purchased for her in Diagon Alley and laid it out on the bed, placing the photograph of her on top of it. His desperation overcoming any feelings of guilt, he went to her bathroom and pulled a few strands of hair from her hairbrush and added it to the photograph and robe.

Severus pointed his wand at the pile. "_Amorus__ Umbra!" The hair sizzled and burned, the photograph became three-dimensional and snaked itself inside the neck hole of the robe. A moment later, the robe began to take on the contours of Veronica's body, then Veronica's head popped through the neck hole, her beloved face framed by wild brown curls. _

Shadow Veronica beamed at him lovingly, bolted to her feet and threw her arms around him. Severus held her more tightly than he would have the real Veronica, gratefully taking in the clean smell of her hair. The aching in his heart left him for a few seconds as he lost himself in the feel of her body against his. When he withdrew, the Shadow stroked his cheek. "Oh, my poor darling. You're tense."

He snorted with amusement at that vast understatement. "Really?" he remarked sarcastically. "How can you tell?"

"Well, that vein next to your temple that looks like it's about to burst out of your head gave me a clue," she replied matter-of-factly. Before he could object, she took his arm and made him sit down on the bed. She climbed up and knelt behind him, then started to massage his shoulders.

The Shadow was less a replica of the object of affection and more a product of the desires of the caster, which explained the fact that her massage felt absolutely smashing. _This is wrong. He groaned with satisfaction when the Shadow worked out a particularly painful knot in his shoulder.__ Terribly, terribly wrong._

She peaked her head around and kissed him lightly on the cheek. _Well, it won't hurt to let the little thing enjoy herself for a few minutes...She finished his massage, then hugged him close from behind and started running her hands across his chest. When she began to unbutton his robe, Severus snapped out of his fog. He grabbed the Shadow's hand and pulled her around to a sitting position next to him._

"I'm going to rescue you," he announced. 

Shadow Veronica brushed back a lock of his hair from his face. "Of course you are, my love."

For the first time, Severus allowed himself to consider the consequences of his plan. "Naturally, we won't be able to return to Hogwarts," he said distractedly.

Shadow Veronica placed a few soft kisses on his lips. "I don't mind, as long as we're together."

"We'll be fugitives-from Voldemort as well as the Ministry of Magic."

"Oh Severus, it will be so romantic," she replied, throwing her arms around his neck.

"And of course," Severus said with a strange uneasiness, "Harry Potter will most assuredly die."

"Who cares?" the Shadow replied brightly. "You don't like him anyway."

Severus abruptly tired of the Shadow's vacuous presence. He pushed her away from him and waved his wand. Instantly, the Shadow disappeared, the empty robe and slightly singed photograph floated back onto the bed.

Severus swallowed hard._ Veronica will never forgive me for sacrificing Potter. He pulled out the pink Dead or Alive Charm and set his jaw. __I can live with that._

*

It had been two days since Professor Stanley's disappearance and Potions class was tenser than Harry ever remembered it. Only the Anti-Bully Charm prevented Snape from screaming at the entire class; even the Slytherins had used Stanley's charm today. While they worked on a particularly pungent Stinking Cankerwort Potion, Harry noticed Hermione watching Snape, who was holding what looked like a small crystal in his hand.

"Do you know what he's holding?" she whispered. Harry and Ron shook their heads. "It's a Dead or Alive Charm. As long as it's pink, she's still alive."

Harry was relieved to see that it was indeed pink, but when he thought about what was likely happening to Professor Stanley, any relief he felt was replaced with anger and a very sick feeling in his stomach.

"Poor Professor Snape," Hermione continued, "they seemed so happy. He must be absolutely heartbroken."

While Hermione was talking softly, Snape rose from his desk and marched over to the trio. "Miss Granger, you'd be surprised how well your grating voice carries in this dungeon. I suggest you keep your infantile opinions to yourself if you don't want double the amount of homework for you and your classmates." He bared his now white, but still uneven teeth in a snarl. "Ten points from Gryffindor." 

Snape had guessed correctly that Hermione was the only one who had not used the Anti-Bully Charm before class, so was fair game for harassment. She blinked repeatedly and lowered her head.

Harry felt a sudden, inexplicable desire to say what he was thinking out loud. "She was defending you."

Snape's lips curled in an unpleasant smile as he fixed Harry with that same oddly menacing look that had made him feel so uneasy at breakfast yesterday. "For that outburst, Potter-detention. I have rat brains that need pickling after class."

Snape strode back to his desk and settled in his chair, a strange expression of calm now on his face. Ron nudged Harry in the ribs. "Why did you say that for?"

Harry shrugged, as perplexed as Ron. "I dunno."

*

Severus rubbed his left forearm absentmindedly as he watched the boy extract rat brains and put them into jars. Voldemort had sent the call half an hour ago, but Severus had to wait until at least dusk if he hoped to get Potter-who would soon be unconscious-past the Aurors and the Apparition barrier.

While Severus plotted how he would stun and kidnap the boy, he found himself thinking about how he had saved Potter from being thrown from his broom during the boy's first year at Hogwarts. Potter thought it was because his father, James, had saved Severus' life years ago. That was only part of the reason. His duty as one of the Order of the Phoenix included protecting the boy with his life. Potter was the Heir of Gryffindor; he was the one who would ultimately vanquish Voldemort when he became a full-fledged wizard. The boy's premature death would virtually assure Voldemort's conquest of the wizarding world, but Severus didn't care. For the first time in his life, a dear, sweet, wonderful woman loved him. He doubted that he deserved to be happy, but he knew that Veronica most certainly didn't deserve to die by Voldemort's evil hand. 

He gazed at the singed photograph of Veronica he had taken from her room and was once again forced  to consider what her reaction would be when she realized what he had done to save her. Not only would she never forgive him, Severus feared he would lose her love as well. From the moment Veronica started teaching at Hogwarts, she had made it clear to him that the welfare of her students came first-the most obvious example being her infernal Anti-Bully Charm.

Severus could live with her not forgiving him, he could even live with the possibility that she would cease to love him, but he found himself wondering if his love for her went beyond his selfish desire to have her alive at any cost. Was he somehow dishonoring Veronica by sacrificing Harry for her? His love for her suddenly demanded that he prove it in the most unbearable way. Severus had to make the choice he knew in his heart she would want him to make. "Potter," he choked.

The boy turned from the rat brains and looked at him quizzically. "Yes, Professor?"

Severus felt his heart break firmly in two. "Get out."

"But-"

His face twisted with grief, Severus sprang up, and with one swipe of his arm sent parchments, quills and candles flying off his desk and onto the floor. "_GET __OUT!" _

*

Harry ripped off his gloves, grabbed his books and ran from the dungeon. He had seen Snape lose his temper many times during his five years at Hogwarts, but never like this. It frightened him as much as anything that had happened in the last few weeks.

As soon as he reached the stairs leading out of the dungeon, Harry stopped and pondered what Snape's disturbing behavior could mean. Certainly it was natural for him to be upset about Professor Stanley, but Harry suspected it was more than that. Since yesterday, Snape had been looking at him in the most disconcerting manner-it made him feel almost like..._ prey._

Harry dropped his books and sat down on the steps in shock as the realization hit him that he had just narrowly escaped being kidnapped. That's why Voldemort had taken Professor Stanley-to get to him. _And Snape let me go!_

He gathered his belongings, knowing that he should be grateful for Snape's change of heart, but stopped halfway up the stairs. Though Harry certainly had no intention of giving himself up to Voldemort, perhaps there was something he could do to help Snape get Professor Stanley back. It probably wasn't the wisest thing to do, but he knew that it was definitely the right thing to do. As he marched slowly back to the dungeon, he thought of something he'd read in a Muggle book once: _'Fools rush in where angels fear to tread'. _

"I guess that makes me a great big fool," Harry said to no one in particular. 

***


	15. A Sticky Situation

A/N: A special thank you to Zsenya, Juliane, Night Zephyr, and especially, Yolanda for keeping me from hurling myself and my laptop computer off a cliff while I struggled with this chapter. 

**Chapter Fifteen: A Sticky Situation**

When Harry reentered the dungeon classroom, Snape was not there, but he heard noises coming from the professor's office. Harry crept silently to the door and found Snape stuffing jars, vials and a leather bag that sounded as if it were full of money into his robe pockets.

"I know what you were planning to do," Harry said. 

Snape spun around in surprise. "Really?" he said, sneering evilly. "Then I suggest you leave before I change my mind."

"You're going to go after her anyway, aren't you?"

"Mr. Potter, you are really trying my patience, not to mention my self control." Snape went back to frantically stuffing things into his pockets. "I haven't got time for this. Leave now or I will not be responsible for my actions."

"I came back because I want to help you. I don't want her to die any more than you do."

Hope swiftly clouded Snape's eyes. "Are you volunteering to be traded for her?"

Harry shook his head vigorously and backed away a few paces. "I don't want to die either, but I thought we could think of something to help her."

"Why, Potter?" he snapped. "Out for more glory?"

Harry sighed and shook his head in frustration. "If you don't want my help, fine--"

Snape rubbed his eyes in fatigue and said something that sounded vaguely like, "I'm sorry." He then reached into his cabinet and pulled out a jar which he held tightly in his hand. "Two days ago, Voldemort sent me this." He put the jar on his desk so Harry could see what was inside. It was a finger--presumably Professor Stanley's.

"Oh..." Harry looked away and took several deep breaths, afraid he would be sick to his stomach.

"Voldemort said that if I didn't turn you over to him in two days time, he would kill her, but not before he gives her to Balin for a few weeks. I don't expect you to understand what that means..."

"I understand, Professor. She told me what he did to her."

"She told you?" Snape said, astonished. 

"Well, enough anyway," Harry replied sadly. "We can't let him hurt her again."

For the first time since Harry had known Snape, he looked at him without a trace of hate in his eyes, just for a second. "No, we can't."

"So what's your plan?" Harry asked, sincerely hoping it wouldn't involve his untimely death.

Snape paced his office for a few moments, then faced Harry, his black eyes flashing with inspiration. "Go get your Invisibility Cloak and, for Merlin's sake, _be discreet." Harry turned to leave, but Snape stopped him. "I won't let anything happen to you--for her sake."_

Harry nodded and hurried from the dungeon to Gryffindor Tower. Fortunately, neither Ron nor Hermione were in the common room. He rushed up the steps to the boys' dormitory and grabbed the cloak from his trunk. He was just about to throw it over himself when Ron walked in.

"What are you doing, Harry?" Ron asked. "Shouldn't you be pickling rat brains? Hey, what are you doing with the cloak?"

Even though they were alone in the room, Harry pulled Ron into a corner and whispered, "I'm going to help Snape rescue Professor Stanley."

Ron laughed. "For a second there, I thought you said you were going to help Snape rescue Professor Stanley."

Harry waved his hand to silence Ron. "Shhhh! Keep your voice down!"

Ron's eyes grew wide. "You're serious!"

"I need you to help me get out of the portrait hole." Harry threw the cloak over himself. 

Ron reached out for him, but snatched only thin air. "Have you gone completely nutters? You can't trust Snape!"

Harry peaked his head out of the cloak. "I don't--exactly." He sighed as he struggled for the right words. "I couldn't do anything to help Cedric, but I might be able to help Professor Stanley. I know I've got to try. They cut off her finger, Ron, and they're going to kill her. You said it yourself, we have to start fighting back!"

Ron nodded reluctantly. "All right, let's do it." 

Harry, now fully covered by the cloak, followed Ron down the stairs through the common room. Ron uttered the password and quickly climbed through the portrait hole, standing to one side to allow Harry out. Harry couldn't help noticing how scared and worried his best friend looked. 

"Thanks, Ron," Harry whispered.

"Be careful, Harry," he mouthed in reply.

Harry smiled encouragingly before he remembered that Ron couldn't see his face. He took a deep breath, then hurried back down to the dungeon as fast as the cloak would allow.

"It took you long enough." Snape glowered at Harry when he returned to his dungeon office and pulled off the cloak. "Did anyone see you?"

"No," Harry lied.

"We only have two hours to get to Voldemort's lair, before he..." Snape trailed off. "Let's get on with it." Snape took a few steps toward him, but hesitated, a sour look on his face. Harry uneasily handed him one corner of the cloak. Snape took it and draped it over both of them. They stood there for a moment, as if getting used to the idea of having to stand so close to each other, before they took a few awkward steps towards the door.

Harry had walked under the Invisibility Cloak dozens of times with Ron, who was now almost as tall as Snape, but somehow trying to walk under it with his Potions professor was a particularly frustrating experience. It was probably the fact that they hated each other's guts that made it so difficult. Harry tried to match Snape's wide steps, but accidentally trod on Snape's foot instead. 

"Will you watch where you're going, Potter!" Snape hissed.

"Sorry." 

After that, Snape actually made an effort to match Harry's shorter strides as they made their way out of the dungeon and up the stone steps. They finally reached the top of the stairs and crept carefully through the entrance hall, where students were just starting to stream in for dinner. Fortunately, the Great Hall doors were on the other side of the entrance hall so they were able to avoid bumping into anyone as the Slytherin students came barreling up the steps from the dungeon. Snape's anxious sigh reminded Harry of the precious minutes ticking away, but they didn't dare rush if they didn't want to trip on the cloak and literally blow their cover.

They inched along the wall, but stopped dead when they saw Filch walking through the entrance doors. It wasn't the sight of Filch, or even his evil cat, Mrs. Norris, that caused Harry and Snape to stop breathing, but the man walking with him:

_Dumbledore!_

"It was them Weasley twins that done it, I'm telling you!" Filch roared.

Dumbledore seemed as if he was trying not to laugh. "I'm sure it was one of the younger students that left the Canary Cream out for Mrs. Norris to find. Fred and George Weasley would have done something far more sophisticated and diabolical." There was a slight lilt of admiration for the twins in his voice.

"Please, sir, let me have 'em for a few hours. I got the manacles all nice and polished, so no chance of lockjaw, I promise."

"Now, now, Argus, we've been over this before. I just can't have you torturing students. I will make certain that there is an official investigation into the matter. The guilty party will be found and punished accordingly." Dumbledore started to laugh, much to Filch's chagrin. "You have to admit, it was rather humorous." He stopped laughing when Filch glared at him poisonously. "Well, she seems none the worse for it." Mrs. Norris chose that moment to cough up a large ball of feathers. Dumbledore cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Shall we go into dinner?"

Harry was just about to breath a sigh of relief, when he saw Mrs. Norris coming towards them, meowing loudly.

"What is it, my dear?" Filch asked, his tone of voice suddenly affectionate.

"I'm sure it's nothing, Argus," Dumbledore said, seeming to look directly into Harry's eyes. Harry felt his heart stop mid-beat. "She's probably still a bit shaken from her ordeal. Come along to dinner, I'm absolutely famished." Dumbledore put a friendly hand on Filch's shoulder and began to lead the caretaker, followed by his frustrated cat, in the direction of the staff entrance to the Great Hall. 

Before Harry could process the strange look the Headmaster appeared to have given him, he saw Ron and Hermione tearing down the stairs and towards the entrance hall doors, no doubt in pursuit of him and Snape. Out of reflex, he almost called out to warn them of Dumbledore's presence, but Snape clamped his hand over Harry's mouth.  

"Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley," called Dumbledore, "may I see you for a moment."

Harry could see the desperate disappointment on his friends' faces as they slowly turned and  reluctantly approached the Headmaster. Snape tugged at his arm urgently, but Harry refused to move.

"Where are the pair of you off to?" Dumbledore asked in a kind but firm tone of voice. "It's time for dinner."

"Um..." replied Hermione.

"Er..." added Ron.

Hermione frowned at Ron, apparently annoyed that he couldn't think of an appropriate lie either. "We were, uh, going to the library," she blurted out, "to study for O.W.L.s."

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "Really? I had no idea you could access the library from outside the castle."

"Yeah, it's a new shortcut we found," Ron explained lamely. "Gets us there twice as fast."

"Your sudden dedication to your studies is admirable, Mr. Weasley," Dumbledore said wryly, "but one can overdo it."

"Well, you see--" Ron began, but Dumbledore stopped him.

"Why don't you come to my office after dinner. I can give you some pointers on the best way to study for O.W.L.s, then we can have some cakes and warm butterbeer afterward."

Hermione began to fidget nervously. "That's very kind, Professor, but we--"

"It wasn't a request, Miss Granger," he said, looking down his long nose at her. "I expect to see both of you directly after dinner."

Their faces fell in defeat. "Yes, sir," they answered in unison. Then, with shoulders slumped, they trudged into the Great Hall.

Harry gawked at Snape, who looked as completely nonplussed as Harry felt. Snape jerked his head towards the tall oak doors and they made their way more quickly, suddenly working in concert out of the joint fear of what Dumbledore would do to them if he discovered what they were up to. But Harry couldn't help wondering if Dumbledore already knew. What other explanation could there be for him not only calling off Mrs. Norris, but preventing Ron and Hermione from leaving the castle? It was very hard for Harry to believe that Dumbledore would allow him to do something so...well, suicidal, but it certainly looked as if he was doing just that. __

Outside, it was very cold and dark, only a few dim stars were out to light their way. Snape lit the end of his wand so they could see where they were going. The snow beneath their feet had started to turn slushy, causing Harry to slip and almost fall, but Snape caught him by the arm. Snape's almost considerate behavior towards him was so unnerving that he almost wished his professor would yell at him. Harry just hoped that Snape would return to his familiar, nasty self once they rescued Professor Stanley. 

The freezing wind came ripping over the lake and threatened to tear the Invisibility Cloak off them. Fortunately, the grounds were deserted, so they could use less care and walk a bit faster towards their still-unknown destination. Snape was leading them east, towards the Forbidden Forest, but soon it was clear that they were headed for the Whomping Willow. Of course, Snape knew as well as Harry that beyond the violent tree was the tunnel that led out of Hogwarts and into the Shrieking Shack. When they finally reached the Whomping Willow, they stood far enough away from the tree so not to provoke it into attacking them with its dangerous, gnarled branches. 

"How do we get through it?" Harry asked, still nervous enough about getting caught not to speak above a whisper. "I'm not small enough to get under there to touch the knot that freezes it. Are you an Animagus?"

"No," Snape replied, his lips curling up into an unpleasant grin. "But I am rather good at Transfiguration." 

He pointed his wand at Harry and suddenly he was staring at Snape's feet through large eyes. He knew he was a small animal of some sort, but he wasn't sure what kind. He looked behind him and found he had a long, bushy red tail. His intense desire to go out and hunt for acorns told him he must be a red squirrel. He wiggled his nose in great displeasure at Snape, then darted under the Whomping Willow's whipping branches. He stood on his hind legs and touched the special knot in the trunk with his paw, freezing the tree in mid-swish. 

Snape quickly slipped passed the gap in the tree's roots and down the muddy slope, into the narrow tunnel entrance. Harry scurried to catch up with him. As soon as they reached the safety of the low-ceilinged tunnel, Snape, bent over double, took off the Invisibility Cloak and turned Harry back into himself. When he returned to his regular size, Harry's head painfully bumped the ceiling of the tunnel. Snape snickered. 

"You could have at least warned me before you turned me into a squirrel," Harry said in annoyance, rubbing the top of his head. Snape just sneered and strode as quickly as he could down the low tunnel. _Well, at least he's acting like he hates me again._

They finally reached the end of the long, cramped tunnel and climbed through the small opening into the Shrieking Shack. The Shack was just as Harry remembered it, with its boarded up windows, broken furniture and peeling wallpaper. Harry sneezed as Snape's robes stirred up a cloud of dust from the Shack's filthy floors. 

Before Harry could ask, "Now what?" Snape pointed his wand downward and drew a crude map on the dust-covered floorboards. "This is Voldemort's lair--what little I've seen of it anyway. Here," he said, pointing to a square in the middle, "is his audience chamber, where we will Apparate."

"But I don't know how to Apparate," Harry protested.

Snape silenced him with a look. "Here," he continued, pointing to a group of rooms to the left of the audience chamber, "are the dungeons. I will provide a distraction, while you take the Invisibility Cloak and find Professor Stanley. Beyond the audience chamber, the rest of the building is protected by an Apparition barrier, so you'll need to find your way outside before you can Disapparate. Once you've freed her, the two of you are to _get out." Then he added with a smirk, "Surely the valiant Harry Potter can manage that."_

Harry couldn't believe he was asking this, especially after that snide comment: "But what about you?"

"I'll manage." Snape then reached for Harry's hair and yanked a strand out of his head. 

"Ouch!" Harry cried, rubbing his scalp. "What did you do that for?"

Snape took out two vials from his pocket. He took the stoppers off and handed one of the vials to Harry. He put Harry's hair in the vial he held. The mixture bubbled and frothed, turning a bright orange. He pulled one of his own hairs from his head and put it in Harry's vial. That mixture turned dark sludgy purple. 

"Polyjuice Potion?" Harry breathed. Snape grunted in the affirmative. Harry watched in incredulity as Snape prepared to drink the potion that would momentarily turn him into his least favorite person on the planet. 

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Snape growled.

Harry continued to stare in unabashed amazement. "Wow, you must _really love her!"_

"Just drink it!" Snape then downed the orange mixture in one gulp.

Harry regarded the potion with Snape's hair in it with undisguised revulsion. He took a hold of his nose and drank the purple liquid that tasted like rotten fish. Harry shuddered and was afraid he'd be sick as his stomach twisted and rumbled. "That was disgusting!"

Snape--whose sharp, gaunt features were starting to bubble like melting wax--glared at him. "Yours didn't exactly taste like butterbeer either, Potter."

Harry turned away from Snape, unprepared to watch his professor transform into him. He felt the same horrid burning sensation that he'd felt when he turned into Goyle during his second year at Hogwarts. Then came the terrible melting feeling, but this time he managed to stay on his feet as he felt his skin bubble and his whole body elongate. He looked down at his hands and watched the fingers thin and stretch. His shoes soon became very tight, and his robes hung just below his knees. His black hair now hung down to his shoulders, and Harry silently thanked whoever it was that made Snape wash it. Harry took off his glasses that now impeded his sight, and was grateful for the lack of a mirror in the room.

Harry finally dared to turn around and saw--himself. Snape's ridiculously long robes hung on him loosely, covering him like a blanket. He struggled towards Harry, the robes leaving a wide path in the dust, and tried to snatch the glasses from his hands, but missed. Harry tried--unsuccessfully--not to laugh as he handed the glasses over. 

Snape put them on, then sneered evilly, but it didn't have quite the same effect when on Harry's face. "Can we get on with it?"

Harry looked at him questioningly.

"The clothes, Potter!" he snapped. "I think Voldemort would be a little suspicious if we showed up looking like this, don't you?"

"Oh, yeah, sorry," he replied with Snape's voice. Harry turned away again, took off his robes and threw them over his shoulder to Snape. He tried to dress himself in Snape's robes while looking straight ahead, but he suddenly became aware of the burning on his left forearm. Harry knew Snape had been burned with the Dark Mark, but seeing it on 'his' arm was a jolting experience. Harry was ready to 'get on with it' more than ever, but there was still the problem of him not being able to Apparate.

Snape soon answered that question. "We'll use the Abducto Spell to Apparate. It's a Dark spell Professor Stanley surely knows; she'll be able to use it to get you both to safety." Snape then regarded Harry almost dangerously. "You are not to come looking for me, is that understood?"

Harry nodded, wondering how willing Professor Stanley would be to obey his order.

Snape took Harry's hand and tapped it with his wand. "_Abducto!" Suddenly, their hands were melded together into one. He then threw the Invisibility Cloak over them, and a second later, they Disapparated. _

*

Compared to Portkey travel, Apparition was much more pleasant. There wasn't the nauseating sensation of being yanked up by one's navel, just a barely perceptible feeling of speeding forward. Unfortunately, its lack of discomfort provided no distraction and allowed Harry to think of who would be waiting for them when they arrived at their destination. He glanced down at Snape, still not used to seeing himself there instead, with a Snape-like sneer on his own face. Harry reminded himself that he had volunteered for this, but that didn't make him feel any less afraid. He just hoped he wouldn't be sick to his stomach, or worse, faint. Snape would never let him hear the end of it, but then of course, they'd probably both be dead...  

Harry's mildly panicked musings were interrupted by their sudden, quiet appearance in Voldemort's audience chamber. Snape silently tapped his wand on their conjoined hands and released them. Harry's stomach tangled itself in a knot as he took in the scene before him. Voldemort was sitting on a throne-like chair on a semicircular stone dais. He was drumming his pale, spider-like fingers impatiently on the arm of his chair, his red eyes flashing with annoyance. Sitting next to him in a plain wooden chair was Professor Balin. He looked much older than his picture in the _Daily Prophet, but he still had that same maniacal smile on his face that made Harry shudder._

To one side of Balin stood a brown-skinned, dark-haired woman--the prettiest woman Harry had ever seen. Next to her stood Wormtail. On the other side of Voldemort were three masked Death Eaters. Certainly, Harry had faced worse odds the last time he'd faced Voldemort, but then that confrontation had hardly been a victory. He really started to get nervous when Nagini seemed to become aware of their presence, darting her forked tongue in and out, tasting the air.

Voldemort rose slowly. "What is it, Nagini?" 

Harry, a Parseltongue like Voldemort, distinctly heard the huge snake hiss: "Potter isss here, Massster."

Harry glanced at Snape and mouthed: "They know we're here!" 

Snape nodded curtly and ducked out from under the cloak. Harry scurried backward, but waited to see what Voldemort and the others would do before he made for the dungeons.

"Hello," Snape said, waving idiotically. "Looking for me?"

Voldemort, Balin and the others spun around in surprise. Snape made a very rude gesture with his hand, then ran off to the right. Harry took a few more steps back towards the dungeons. 

"All of you!" Voldemort boomed, his flat nostrils flaring. "After the boy!"

The Death Eaters took off after Snape, but Balin grabbed Wormtail by the arm. "Check Veronica's cell and make certain she stays there." Harry's delay had apparently paid off, but Balin's next words made his blood run cold:

"And release the dementors."

Wormtail rushed off to the left towards the dungeons. Harry started after him, but hung back when Balin stopped Voldemort from following the others.

"My Lord, perhaps you should wait here."

"How dare you presume to tell me what to do?" was Voldemort's furious reply. "He's getting away!" 

"It's a trick, My Lord," Balin explained calmly. "We don't very well want to leave this room unattended while they rescue the girl and come back here to Disapparate. Besides, it is unseemly for the Dark Lord to be seen chasing after a child. That's what you have minions for. Never fear, I will bring you the boy."

Voldemort sat back down on his throne-like chair and pulled his black robes around himself petulantly. "You had better not fail me, Rupert, or you will be Nagini's next meal."

Balin bowed, floated up a few inches off the ground, then sped off after the Death Eaters following Snape. Harry, still unused to Snape's long legs, ran clumsily after Wormtail.

*

Veronica heard a muffled voice outside of her cell, then the sound of the bolt being slid back. Her greatest fear of course, was that it was Balin. Not because of the unspeakable torment he would no doubt subject her to, but because it meant that Severus had turned over Harry and had probably lost his own life in the process. She got to her feet and began building up what energy she could for a wandless Defense Spell. Even if her resistance was ultimately futile, she'd be damned if she would let him take her without a fight. The door opened.

"Oh, it's you." Veronica almost collapsed with relief when she saw that it was only Pettigrew. Though she was certain he had slipped meat juice into her vegetable stew last night, he was relatively harmless. But then, compared to Balin and Voldemort, most Dark wizards were. 

Pettigrew shot her a dirty look. "Just came to make certain you were all safe and snug in your cell."

Suddenly, Veronica thought she must be hallucinating. Behind Pettigrew, a figure was magically revealed as if an invisible curtain has risen--_or an Invisibility Cloak!_

"What are you looking at?" Pettigrew spun around, but before he could aim his wand, Severus cried, "_Stupefy!" Pettigrew crashed, face first, onto the cold stone floor. _

"Severus!" Veronica ran to him and jumped into his arms, almost knocking him over. He was trying to tell her something, but all she could do was kiss him repeatedly--but he wasn't kissing her back. "Severus (kiss), sweetheart (kiss), what's the matter?"

He did something Veronica had never seen him do before, he blushed a deep crimson. "Professor, it's me--Harry."

Veronica jumped back from him instantly, as if he was on fire. "Dear gods," she said, recoiling in horror, "I just kissed a fifteen-year-old boy! That's it, I'm a pervert." 

"It's all right, Professor, I mean, how could you know?" Harry said soothingly, then the boy grinned stupidly, blushing as deeply as before.

"Harry," Veronica said firmly, "I suggest you wipe that smile off your face before I'm forced to kill us both."

"Sorry," he replied sheepishly. 

The sound of approaching footsteps provided an almost welcome distraction. Harry grabbed the Invisibility Cloak and threw it over both of them. They huddled by the wall near the door, hardly daring to breathe. Veronica had to remind herself repeatedly that it was Harry, not Severus, she was pressed up against.

A few seconds later, a very pretty woman Veronica had never seen before entered the cell. She regarded Pettigrew with disgust. "You idiot!" She kicked his prostrate form in the ribs, then pulled out her wand. "_Ennervate_!"

Pettigrew awoke and stumbled to his feet. He regarded the woman fearfully and rubbed his side.

She cuffed him hard on the ear. "What happened, rodent?"

"It wasn't my fault, Isela," he explained quickly. "Snape snuck up from behind and stunned me."

Harry glanced at Veronica and inclined his head towards the door. They carefully inched toward it, but Harry accidentally scraped his boots on the stone floor. Isela spun around and pointed her wand vaguely in their direction. "They are using an Invisibility Cloak and I suspect they are still here. _STUPEFY!"  _

The red light from her wand barely missed them and hit the wall instead. Chunks of stone rained down to the floor. With another quick glance at each other, Harry and Veronica broke into a run. Isela was close on their heels, followed by a huffing Pettigrew. Harry pulled off the cloak enough so he could point his wand at their pursuers. "_Impedimenta!"_

Veronica couldn't help feeling a swell of pride as her student's Impediment Curse hit both Isela and Pettigrew, allowing her and Harry to duck into the safety of a deserted tunnel. 

As soon as they caught their breath, Veronica asked, "Harry, where's Severus?"

"He's pretending to be me. He led most of them, including Balin, away so I could rescue you." Harry put his hand into one of Severus' voluminous robe pockets and pulled out a clean, white handkerchief which he gently wrapped around Veronica's injured hand. 

She was so touched by the pained look on his face at the sight of her injuries that she had to stop herself from stroking his cheek. "You shouldn't be here."

"I volunteered. Professor Snape told me that as soon as I found you, we were to find a way out so we could Disapparate using the Abducto Spell. He also told me that we were not to go looking for him."

Veronica was deeply ashamed that she had doubted Severus. She should have known he would do the right thing. She lowered her head and nodded as she felt her heart break. "He's quite right. I've got to get you home."

"But then, I rarely do what Professor Snape tells me to do." The nervous smile Harry gave her looked very strange indeed on Severus' face. "Don't worry, I'll help you find him"

"Thank you." Veronica could resist giving him a quick hug, but was surprised when Harry suddenly went pale. "What's wrong?" 

The panic in his eyes was unmistakable. "They've released the dementors."

*

Balin floated through the abbey's underground tunnels alongside the three young Death Eaters, in pursuit of the Potter boy. Things were definitely not as they seemed, but Voldemort's judgment was clouded where young Potter was concerned. At least he had been able to talk the Dark Lord out of summoning all of his followers to witness the boy's capture. Once they had the boy in hand, then Voldemort could call them to witness Potter's execution. He just hope that Pettigrew and Isela were able to stop Snape from releasing Veronica--which is what he was surely doing. The pair must have Apparated under an Invisibility Cloak. Let them run about in circles. They would never leave here alive.

"There he is!" yelled Dowson. 

Potter darted out of an alcove, but instead of running away, he turned and pointed his wand at them. "_AVADA __KEDAVRA!"_

Dowson, the Death Eater closest to Potter, fell forward--dead.

Balin held up his hand to stop the others. _That's no fifth-year student, Balin thought, beginning to get an inkling of the real truth of the situation._

Potter raised his wand again, but this time Balin was ready. "_Expelliarmus!"_

The boy's wand flew out of his hand and into Balin's. Potter then turned and ran around the corner.

"Why didn't you capture him?" demanded Cranwell, the most irritating of the young upstarts.

Balin examined the wand carefully. It was oak, approximately ten inches in length. He broke it in half to expose the core. Dragon heartstring, not the phoenix tail feather that should have been there if this was indeed the brother of Voldemort's wand. "That is not Harry Potter. That is Severus Snape. Find him, but do not kill him unless it's absolutely necessary. Steer him towards the east wing; the others are sure to come looking for him." A lovesick Hufflepuff and a reckless Gryffindor could do nothing else. There was only one way out of the abbey and Balin would be waiting for them when they got there.

*

Harry and Professor Stanley dashed down the torch lit tunnel in order to escape the two dementors chasing after them. They had taken off the Invisibility Cloak to speed their escape; it didn't seem fool the blind, rotting creatures anyway. Harry still had nightmares about his encounters with dementors two years ago, but he didn't remember them being able to move this fast.

"You know what to do, Harry," Stanley said breathlessly as she ran. "Professor Lupin told me you know how to cast a Patronus, so do it!"

Harry tried to shove his wand into Professor Stanley's hand, but she shook her head. The horrible fainting feeling started to come over him, followed by the screaming...

Soon, the pair turned a corner and hit the end of the tunnel. Harry had no choice but to face them. _My happiest thought...I can't think of one!___

"_Expecto __Patronum!" Stanley whispered in his ear._

"I can't think..." Harry felt himself falling, a white fog clouding over his eyes...

He felt her take the wand from his hand, then he hit the floor. 

"_EXPECTO __PATRONUM!" _

Harry thought he heard Stanley cry out, but it was hard to tell above the screaming in his own head. Then he saw a mist form a huge, silver serpent. The serpent reared up and flicked its tongue at the dementors. It turned and glanced in their direction, its strangely-familiar black eyes flashing, before it slithered after the black-hooded nightmares. The dementors turned and retreated in the other direction.

At that moment, Isela and Wormtail came barreling around the corner. Wormtail turned tail and ran. Isela would have been wise to do the same, but she faced the retreating dementors and screamed, "Cowards! I order you to go after them!"

Instead, the dementors took off their hoods to reveal their sickening, putrid skulls, then both of them clamped a skeletal hand around her throat. They jostled each other, each trying to bestow the Dementor's Kiss. They apparently decided to share, because they both sucked her soul out through her mouth, then hurled her soulless body to the ground. Harry gasped when he saw that she was no longer the beautiful woman she'd been a moment before, but a wrinkled old hag. 

Professor Stanley helped him to his feet and handed back his wand. "Carries quite a punch, that wand does." Harry noticed that the handkerchief tied around her right hand was stained with blood. Before it dissipated, Stanley's Patronus allowed them to double-back through the tunnel and dash down another. 

"I didn't know dementors could do that," Harry said as they ran. "I mean, make someone old like that."

"They can't," Stanley replied. "She must have been using Beauty Spells to keep herself young and once her soul was sucked out, the spells were broken."

Harry felt his cheeks burn when he thought of himself fainting instead of casting a proper Patronus like he should have. "I'm sorry I froze, Professor."

"That's all right, Harry, I just wish I had some chocolate for you. I shouldn't have tried to make this into a practical Defense lesson--force of habit, I'm afraid. We'll work on it when we get back to Hogwarts."

Harry nodded. _When we get back to Hogwarts... He wished he could feel just half as confident as Professor Stanley sounded._

*

Severus was shocked that he was almost glad to be inhabiting the body of the small and agile Gryffindor Seeker. He was able to evade his pursuers with relative ease, but so far, he had not been able to find a way out of the ancient building. It had occurred to him that he might not make it out alive; he just prayed that Potter had been able to free Veronica and that they were both safely outside by now. At least the Dead or Alive Charm he clutched in his hand still glowed pink. 

Severus stuffed the charm in a pocket, then ducked into an empty room with a broken wooden door, barely noticing the tattered, but elaborate tapestry hanging on the wall. He rifled through another of Potter's robe pockets in search of the vial of flesh-eating poison he had put there when he and the boy had traded clothes. He found the vial, but hesitated--three more kills to add to his growing list. Since one of them would be Balin, any remorse he felt immediately disappeared.

"Over here!" he called to them. Severus saw the red flashes of the Stunning Spells bounce off the ancient stone walls taking chunks of stone with them. 

Severus very carefully opened the vial, then waved his hand over it. The liquid flowed out of the bottle like a bright green snake, then spread out in a thin sheet. He sent the sheet towards his pursuers, hitting the two masked Death Eaters square in the face. Their blood-curdling screams were almost instantly silenced. As Severus had hoped, the poison ate away at them on contact. In a matter of minutes, their heads and torsos where the poison had touched them had been dissolved. _But where's Balin?_

*

Harry and Professor Stanley searched for Snape in every alcove and unlocked room they could find. They had since figured out that they must be underground, but they had yet to find a staircase leading to an upper floor, or better yet, the outside world. The rooms were mostly narrow and all were windowless, some with ancient faded tapestries hanging on the walls. They showed scenes that Harry thought might be religious in nature, but instead of angels, witches on brooms flew over the English countryside raining down magic to make the crops grow.  

Since he had rescued her, Professor Stanley was obviously doing her best to act like her usual cheerful self, but eventually even she started to look very worried. Harry's stomach contracted sickeningly. Even if they did find Professor Snape, there very well might be no way out of here. _Well, at least no one's chasing after us. He soon discovered the reason why when they turned another corner and saw two mutilated corpses--actually, just their bottom halves--lying on the stone floor, surrounded by a puddle of bright green fluid. _

Harry was glad when he heard Stanley let out a small scream because it concealed his own cry of surprise. The horrible sight coupled with his nauseating fear caused the contents of Harry's stomach to come up in an embarrassing fit of retching. 

Stanley took several deep breaths, then put a comforting arm around his shoulder. "It's all right, Harry. I'm fairly certain this was Professor Snape's doing."

Harry's stomach finally emptied itself and he wiped his mouth on Snape's sleeve. "When we find him, please don't tell him I threw up."

She smiled kindly, then used a corner of her own torn robe to clean off Snape's sleeve. "I won't, I promise."

Harry once again threw the Invisibility Cloak over them, anxious to move passed the horrific scene. They didn't get far before he felt himself shrinking as the Polyjuice Potion began to wear off. He had to hike up Snape's robes that were soon dragging on the ground, his feet now rattling in the huge boots he wore. The worst part was that his vision suddenly blurred. Stanley obviously noticed him changing because she stopped abruptly. 

"I can't see anything," he told her, once again embarrassed at his own helplessness. She took him by the hand and led him down the hall, but they couldn't move very fast because of the oversized boots on his feet. He was just about to ask her to help him pull them off, when they both jumped at the sound of a familiar voice yelling:

"Bloody hell!"

*

The Polyjuice Potion had worn off, and Severus was forced to duck into a small room in order to pry Potter's tiny shoes off of his feet. Severus had restrained the impulse to ground Potter's glasses into dust and stuck them in the boy's robe pocket instead. The robe now hung just below his knees. _Please, gods, don't let me die like this. _

The room he was in was plainer than some of the others he had seen, with not even a moldy tapestry hanging on the wall. The only ornament in the room was a statue that stood in a recess in the wall. It was of a smiling young woman in Medieval-style robes, with a wand in one hand and the scaly tail of a dragon in the other. There was an empty well at her feet presumably for offerings. He knew she was one of a dozen witch saints, but her name escaped him. 

Severus finally managed to remove one shoe, but the other one refused to budge. His head snapped up when he thought he heard footsteps, but no one was there. Then he heard a sound so sweet, he was certain he must be imagining it:

"Severus?"

His breath caught in his throat. "Veronica?"

Veronica and Potter pulled off the Invisibility Cloak and revealed themselves.

She rushed to him as Severus hobbled towards her, one shoe on and one shoe off. His rage at the sight of the terrible injuries on her neck and hand was overcome by his boundless relief. He held her face in his hands and kissed her while tears streamed down her cheeks. He felt tears spring to his own eyes as he breathed, "Are you real?"

She nodded blissfully, then closed her eyes and buried her face in his chest. 

He enfolded her in his arms, savoring the feel of her wild curls as he gently stroked her hair. He half-opened his eyes and was immediately brought back to reality when he spied Potter looking about awkwardly. He reluctantly withdrew from Veronica and regarded the boy with the most unpleasant sneer he could manage. "Potter, I thought I told you to get her out--"  
  


"Oh, Severus, really," Veronica interrupted. "Since when have I ever done anything you've wanted me to do?"

He sighed in exasperation. "Sorry, I lost my head." He gave Potter his glasses back, then noticed Veronica looking him up and down. Apparently, she had just become aware of his ridiculous appearance and covered her mouth to muffle her snickers.

"I never knew you had such gorgeous shins," she giggled mischievously. 

Instead of getting angry with Veronica, he decided to take it out on Potter instead. Severus glared at the boy who was starting to laugh himself. "Get out of those robes, boy, before I yank you out of them!" Potter immediately wiped the smile off his face, then quickly removed the over robe and threw it at Severus.

Veronica spotted the statue on the wall and went to examine it more closely. "That's Saint Degrabel!" 

Severus took another look at it himself. "Are you sure?"

"Who else could it be? Look at the dragon's tail in her hand." 

"Who's Saint Degrabel?" Harry asked

"The Patron Saint of Sticky Situations," Veronica explained. "We must be in one of the abbeys dedicated to her. That would explain the tapestries we saw. I just wish I could remember the spell to invoke her. Severus?"

"Be serious," he snorted as he started unbuttoning the boy's school robes. "Potter hurry up! If I'm going to die, I refuse to do it in robes that go up to my knees."

Potter blushed and glanced at Veronica. 

"Oh dear, of course." She immediately turned her back on them so they could finish changing and continued to try to remember the spell to invoke Saint Degrabel. By the time she said, "I've got it!" they were back in their own clothes. She stood before the statue and chanted:

"_Degrabel, O' Degrabel, please come to our aid; _

_A sticky situation we've gone and made;_

_If you do help us, you're sure to get paid;_

_"Degrabel, O' Degrabel, please come to our aid!"_

Stanley then turned back to them. "Do either of you have a coin?"

Severus reached in his pocket, pulled out his money pouch and gave her a Galleon, which she put in the little well at Degrabel's feet.

The statue soon stirred and sprang to life. Degrabel yawned and stretched before she bent down and picked up the Galleon. "Oooh, _very generous! The last one who called me expected me to turn his wife back into a woman for a Knut, who happened to be a chicken at the time--the wife, not the Knut, of course. Can you imagine the nerve?"_

Severus was about to tell the saint to get on with it, but Veronica pressed her fingers into his arm to keep him quiet.

Degrabel looked at each of them in turn, clucked her stone tongue and put her hands on her hips. "Well, what have you three gone and done this time?" The saint's tone was tinged with the same affectionate disappointment Severus had often heard in Veronica's voice.

"Voldemort has taken over the abbey and is trying to kill us," Veronica replied. "We can't find a way out."

"Well, that is a very sticky situation indeed!" Degrabel handed the dragon tail to Veronica. "Hold this, dear, if you don't mind." Degrabel raised her wand. "_Abacus Abscindo!" Then she took the dragon's tail back from Veronica. "That should do it." With that, Degrabel turned back into silent stone._

A second later, the ceiling started to crack and split, raining down bits of plaster and stone on them. Severus wondered if the roof was going to cave in on them, but instead it opened wide enough so that they could climb through--if they could just reach it. Then, he saw Veronica being lifted off her feet and through the opening in the ceiling. She was followed by Potter, who just managed to grab his Invisibility Cloak before he left the ground. As he felt himself being lifted up, Severus couldn't help thinking that this miraculous escape was far too easy.

*

Severus was glad to be back in his own body, but he was gladder still that the outside world was just beyond the old oak door and the stained glass windows of the dilapidated chapel they had been lifted into. The three of them ran to the door, but they hit an invisible wall before they reached it.

"Rather effective barrier, don't you think? Thank you for teaching it to me, Veronica." They spun around and saw Balin stepping from behind the stone arch near the ramshackle altar. Veronica let out a little cry which made Balin smile. "I'm so glad you all finally arrived, I was beginning to worry."

With impressive speed, Potter aimed his wand at Balin. "_STUPEFY_!"

Balin hardly flinched as the boy's Stunning Spell hit him. Before Severus or Veronica could grab Potter's wand, Balin called, "_Expelliarmus_!" Potter's wand flew from his hand and into Balin's. 

Balin twirled the wand in his hand and looked into Severus' eyes. "I see the Polyjuice Potion has worn off and you're back to your old selves." He then trained his sights not on Veronica, but Potter. "So you are the great and powerful Harry Potter?" Balin took a few steps towards him. Veronica tried to pull him behind her, but the boy stood protectively in front of her instead. His gesture was not lost on the Dark wizard. He grinned mockingly. "You volunteered to help Snape rescue the fair Veronica, didn't you?" 

Potter nodded and glared at him defiantly. Severus shot him a look to let him know that was a very unwise thing to do, but as usual, the boy ignored him. 

"I can already tell you're just like your father--reckless and arrogant," Balin said. "James Potter's arrogance got him killed, as will yours."

Potter's face flushed with anger. "Don't you dare say anything against my dad!" 

Severus closed his eyes and shook his head. _Shut up, Potter_!

Balin burst out laughing. He then pointed Potter's own wand at him. "_Quiet boy_!" A flash of blue light came flying at Potter's mouth, then suddenly, he didn't have a mouth. The boy's eyes grew wide with panic as he clawed at the smooth skin on his face where his mouth used to be. Veronica grabbed Potter's hands in an attempt to calm him, but thankfully she knew better than to beg for mercy. "Don't worry, Harry, everything's going to be all right," she said, almost convincingly.

"That indomitable Hufflepuff optimism," Balin said with a chuckle, "always good for a laugh." Balin regarded Veronica lecherously for a moment, then turned back to Severus. "You know, if it were possible,  I think I would have loved you like a son--you had such tremendous potential, but I always knew that deep down you were weak and now you've proved it. It's bad enough that you're working as a spy for that old fool Dumbledore, but now you've gone and fallen in love with a Hufflepuff--an unattractive one at that."

It pained Severus to see the reflex hurt in Veronica's eyes at Balin's words, but couldn't she see that the bastard said it in order to obtain that very response? And couldn't she see just how important she was to the Dark wizard? If Severus didn't think Balin was beyond such human emotions, he would have said that the old man was jealous. "Well, apparently she's attractive enough for you to have gone to all this trouble to get her back," Severus replied. "Tell me, Professor, was it your idea to kidnap her in the first place?"

Balin's smile faded. "Tell me, Severus, what's the best way to destroy a Hufflepuff?"

Severus remained silent.

"I'll tell you--destroy the person she loves the most. But first, a little fun." He aimed Potter's wand at Severus and boomed, "_CRUCIO_!"

Severus was hit with excruciating, splitting pain that flooded every fiber of his body. As badly as he wanted to endure the curse silently, he writhed on the floor of the chapel, screaming. Severus had never known anyone to not cry out when being tortured with the Cruciatus Curse, but Severus' cries were drowned out by Veronica's screams. Time lost all meaning during the torture, and though it felt like it lasted for hours, Severus doubted if more than a few minutes had passed when it finally stopped. Severus looked up at Balin and saw his old professor motion for him to get up. So Balin was going to use the Killing Curse instead of torturing him to death? _Thank the gods for small favors._

Severus managed to regain his feet with Veronica and Potter's help. He almost laughed when he saw the determined look on Potter's mouthless face. Balin was right, the boy was just like his father. He pushed them both behind him, but felt Veronica put her bandaged hand in his. She must have known that if she was touching him when Balin delivered the Killing Curse, she would die too, but considering the alternative, it was probably for the best. He shifted his feet slightly so that Balin couldn't see that Veronica was holding onto him.  

With a grim smile, Balin once again aimed Potter's wand.

Severus heard Veronica whisper not, _I love you, as he might have expected at this desperate moment, but, "Don't resist."_

_Don't resist what?_

"_AVADA..."_

Then Severus felt it. The most exquisite feeling of warmth and beauty filled every cell in his body in almost the same way that the Cruciatus Curse had filled his body with pain just a few moments before. It was a dazzling, inexplicable rapture that he wouldn't have thought possible for a mortal to feel. He knew he was grinning like a fool, but he didn't care. Severus rested his mind on Veronica's love, certain she was trying to make his death an easy one. "I love you," he breathed.

"_KEDAVRA!"___

A blinding green light shot from Balin's wand then...

Severus fell.

*

"Harry, are you all right?" Veronica's voice seemed so close by. Was she dead, too?

"I am now, Professor," Potter replied.

Severus' eyes fluttered open at the sound of Potter's voice. He must have gotten his mouth back. _Pity._ Severus then realized that he didn't feel very good, but he didn't feel particularly dead either. "Uuuuhhh."

"Don't try to talk, sweetheart," Veronica said gently, her voice shaking. "You're going to be just fine." Severus then felt several drops of water on his face--tears.

_Sweetheart._

Then he heard her say, "Harry grab your wand, quickly!"

Severus managed to turn his head to the side and saw a pair of feet rushing away from him. He saw Balin lying on the ground, eyes wide open, a rather surprised look on the Dark wizard's face. Then he saw Potter pry the wand from Balin's dead hands.

_Dead? Balin's dead..._

"Don't worry," Veronica said, stroking his forehead, "I'll have us all home in a minute."

With those reassuring words, Severus passed out.

***

To be continued...


	16. The Professor Who Lived

**Chapter Sixteen: The Professor Who Lived**

A/N: Again, I'd like to express my undying gratitude to Yolanda and Zsenya, my Sugar Quill beta-readers, for all their help and encouragement, I literally couldn't have done it without them. And thank you to all the lovely readers who stuck with this story to the not-so-bitter end.

*

Severus felt himself being flung forward into a sitting position. He heard the sound of pillows being patted and fluffed behind him, then his unknown assailant threw him back down onto the fluffed pillows. "Now, isn't that much better?" said an irritatingly cheerful and familiar voice. "Would you like some tea?"

Severus opened his eyes and groaned. Standing over his bed with a merry smile and a cup of tea was the long-deceased Muggle nurse, Miss Robbins, still in her white uniform and starched white cap. Strangely, he saw that he was lying in Hogwarts' hospital wing, not the ghostly version of St. Mungo's, which was usually the backdrop for her periodic visits. Severus glared at her and threw the covers over his head. "Go away and let me be dead in peace."

"You're not dead, you're just in a very deep sleep." Miss Robbins yanked the covers back. "Do you know that you snore?" Then under her breath, "With a nose like that it's hardly surprising."

"I do _not snore!" Severus protested indignantly._

Miss Robbins rolled her eyes. "Whatever you say, but when you wake up, you might want to ask her why she's got cotton in her ears."

Severus only just now noticed that Veronica was sitting up, wide awake, in the bed next to his, wearing those horrid blue flannel ducky pajamas of hers. Her right hand was bandaged; her neck was still covered with Balin's savage bites, but they were beginning to fade. Her curls covered her ears, so Severus had no way of knowing if Miss Robbins was just teasing him about the cotton in them. He noticed that Veronica's bedside table was covered with flowers and Chocolate Frogs, no doubt Neville Longbottom's doing.

"Veronica," Severus called, but received no response.

"She can't hear you," Miss Robbins said. "I told you, you're asleep." The nurse sat down in the chair next to Severus' bed and regarded Veronica thoughtfully. "She looks rather gloomy, doesn't she?"

"Yes, she does," he said with concern. "Doesn't she know I'm going to be all right?"

"Of course," Miss Robbins replied in that irksome tone of voice that told Severus she knew far more than she was letting on. 

As he continued to study Veronica, the reason for her sorrow became clear. Severus felt the anger and jealousy welling up inside of him. "She's mourning that son of a bitch, isn't she?"

Miss Robbins nodded. "In a way."

Severus muttered a particularly venomous oath. "Do you know what Veronica told me right before she was kidnapped? She said that he was the most important person in her life. Sometimes I think she," he swore again and tasted bile in his throat, "--loved him."

"She did--a little. But that's what she does. And that's why that evil geezer needed her so much."

Severus sighed heavily. It wasn't as if this was a startling revelation, he'd figured as much all along, but could never bear to express it before now. _Bloody Hufflepuffs. "Balin wanted to destroy her."_

"Because that's all he could do." Miss Robbins shook her head sadly. "He was a pathetic creature, really."

Severus glowered at her in disgust. "Don't tell me you feel sorry for him?"

"No, I'm afraid even my compassion has its limits. And before you get too upset with Veronica, just remember that it was her love for you that saved you and blinked Balin out of existence." Miss Robbins seemed to have predicted his next question, because she added with a grin, "She'll explain it to you when you wake up."

As if Veronica were suddenly conscious of their conversation, she looked over at Severus as she lay her head down on her pillow. She smiled at him and whispered softly, "I love you."

"You're the most important person in her life now." Miss Robbins leaned over and kissed him on the forehead in an almost motherly fashion. "Goodbye, Severus." He was barely aware that she was gone before he slipped into the oblivion of a dreamless slumber. 

*

"Wake up, you great lump! I haven't got all day!"

Veronica roused herself from a fitful sleep to see Minister of Magic, Euphemia Wilmont poking Severus with her perfectly manicured finger. Severus continued to snore like a mountain troll as he had done for the past two days.

"Leave him alone!" Veronica said firmly.

Wilmont spun around in surprise, her blood-red robes rustling regally. Wilmont took a few steps back, no doubt recalling their last encounter, during which Veronica had hit Wilmont in the eye with her broom. Madam Pomfrey joined the pair and regarded the Minister sternly.

"You're interrogations can wait, Euphemia," Poppy snapped. "My patients need their rest."

Wilmont snorted and shoved a box in Veronica's face. "I came to give him this."

Veronica took the box and opened it. She gasped. "The Order of Merlin, First Class!"

Wilmont glared at Poppy, then turned to Veronica. "I trust you'll give it to him when he wakes up."

"Of course, but I am rather surprised--"

Wilmont shrugged. "It's true, I would have preferred it if one of my own people could have made the kill, but Snape certainly did the wizarding world a great favor. I understand you had something to do with it as well."

Veronica started to explain, then shook her head. "It was Severus who blocked the curse. He deserves this." She took the medal out of its box and pinned it on his nightshirt. Severus continued to snore loudly all throughout the impromptu ceremony. 

"Tell me, Professor Stanley, did the bastard suffer?"

"Really, Euphemia, I think you should go," Poppy said angrily.

Veronica couldn't help but be uncomfortably aware of the fact that these two women disliked each other intensely. As eager as she was to get rid of Minister Wilmont, she decided to answer her question now rather than later. "No, I don't believe he did."

Wilmont set her delicate mouth in a hard line. "How very unfortunate." With a parting glare at Poppy, she turned and marched out of the hospital wing. 

Veronica turned and found Madam Pomfrey looking at her sadly. Veronica wanted to ask her to explain what had just happened, but something disturbingly familiar in Poppy's eyes told her to let it go for now.

"Come along, Veronica," Poppy said gently as she settled her back into bed. "Severus isn't the only one who needs rest."

When Poppy returned to her desk, Veronica rose and sat in the chair beside Severus' bed. _It's going to take some time getting used to that_, she thought as she listened to his rhythmic snoring_. _She smiled, reached over and brushed a lock of his black hair out of his face. _I suppose I could always get ear plugs._ It was still very strange to think of what their future might hold. She wanted him and she knew he wanted her, but would he want to solidify their relationship with a deeper commitment, given that they were both now targets of Voldemort's wrath? 

Well, at least she had her finger back. When she and Harry returned to Hogwarts with Severus' unconscious body, Harry told her that Severus had saved her finger. Dumbledore retrieved it and Poppy managed to stick it back on. The bites on her neck were also starting to fade after Poppy's expert care. She bent her right forefinger and winced. It still hurt, but Poppy was certain she would have full use of it in a few days, though there would be a nasty scar. _Another_ _scar_...

Guiltily, Veronica felt a twinge of loss as her hand touched the clear skin above her heart. When Balin had been killed by the rebounded Killing Curse, the shadowy Dark Mark that had been above her heart all of her adult life had disappeared. She should be glad it was gone--and that Balin was dead, but she wasn't. _What's wrong with me_?

*

When Severus awoke in the hospital wing, he found Veronica sitting at his bedside. He assumed she had been officially released by Poppy since she was dressed in her maroon robe rather than those ridiculous pajamas of hers. Her hand was still bandaged, but the wounds on her neck were gone. He looked down at himself and discovered a medal pinned to his nightshirt.

"It's the Order of Merlin, First Class," Veronica explained. "Minister Wilmont dropped it of yesterday."

"Oh dear, and I missed her," Severus smirked sarcastically. "How long have I been out?"

"Almost three days," she replied. "My parents were here yesterday as well."

"They hate me," he moaned.

Veronica shook her head. "My mother doesn't." She pointed to a small package on his bedside table. "See, she brought you pumpkin cakes. And Dad--he'll come 'round, don't worry."

He felt some of his anxiety leave him at her reassurance. Severus reached his hand out weakly and stroked her cheek. She took it and kissed it softly. "What happened back there, Veronica? What did you do?"

"It's quite simple really. Ever since Harry blocked Voldemort's curse, _the question in Dark Arts research circles has been, how was it done? The other question of course was, could it be repeated?"_

"It was Lily's--his mother's sacrifice that protected him," Severus said.

"Actually, there are two schools of thought on that," Veronica continued. "Some believe it was her sacrificing her life for him that did it. Others, like myself, believe it was her love that provided the protection from the curse. Unfortunately, it wasn't a theory we could test."

"Until now."

 She shrugged modestly. "I thought, what the hell? It was all we had."

"Ow." Severus winced and clutched the stinging area above his heart. "What happened here?"

"Oh, nothing," Veronica replied, avoiding his eyes.

"Then why do I get the distinct impression that it's something?" He unbuttoned his nightshirt, but couldn't see whatever it was clearly.  
  


She tipped his chin up so he was forced to look at her. "Did I tell you how much I love you?"

His black eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Get me a mirror."

"Severus--"

"Get me a mirror, woman."

Veronica reluctantly left his bedside and returned with a hand mirror a few minutes later. 

"You really should run a comb through that hair," the mirror said. "And brushing your teeth wouldn't be a bad idea either."

"I'm feeling seven years of bad luck coming on if you don't shut up," Severus barked. The mirror immediately fell silent. On his chest just above his heart was a scar shaped like a lightening bolt. Severus almost threw the mirror across the room anyway, but instead fixed his beloved with a irate glare. "You couldn't have just let me die, could you?"

"Oh, Severus, you don't mean that." Veronica was trying to look sympathetic, but had to cover her mouth to keep from laughing. "Well, at least it's not on your forehead."

"Swear to me you will not tell a soul."

Veronica regarded him sheepishly. "It's a bit late for that, I'm afraid. You see, there was a rather talkative third-year Gryffindor boy, one bed over from yours when we brought you in..."

He groaned.

"And of course, there were the reporters from WWN and the _Daily Prophet..." _

Severus spotted a copy of the _Prophet on her bedside table. He held out his hand for it, but she hesitated._

"Perhaps now isn't the best time--" 

"The paper, Veronica." She handed him the newspaper which he slowly unfolded, mentally preparing himself for the worst. On the front page, above a very old and extremely unflattering picture of himself, was the headline: 'THE PROFESSOR WHO LIVED!' Severus closed his eyes, suddenly suffering from a splitting headache. "Why is it that I'm getting all the attention when you're the one who saved me?"

"Severus, it was a team effort. I wouldn't have been able to do what I did if it weren't for you and Harry," she replied sincerely. "You were wonderful."

It wasn't that Severus doubted her words, but he knew that she had allowed herself to be relegated to the part of Damsel in Distress so she wouldn't have to explain her past association with Balin to the whole wizarding world. Severus had been willing to die to protect her, surely he could suffer through a bit of publicity. He felt her warm, soft lips against his, then she lightly kissed the scar on his chest. 

Veronica looked up at him and grinned. "I think it makes you look dangerous."

Severus ran his hand through her lush, curly hair. "You did that to torture me, am I right? Lying here, barely able to lift my head, unable to reciprocate." 

"Poppy says you'll be able to leave the hospital wing tomorrow." Veronica motioned for him to scoot over as she climbed into the small bed with him.

"Now I know you're trying to torture me."

"Would you like me to leave?" she said with a smile, pretending to get up.

Severus quickly put a restraining arm around her waist and pulled her close.

"You're beginning to rally I see."

"It's amazing what having a sexy woman in one's bed will do for one's recovery."

She rolled her eyes and said, "Oh, stop."

"Veronica," he began, taking her chin in his hand and looking deeply into her eyes, "from this moment on, there is only one acceptable response when I tell you you're sexy--'thank you'. I'll also accept 'yes, I know, you silly man'."

She laughed, then became very quiet. "I'm so sorry I doubted you. When I found out what Voldemort was planning, I thought-- I should have known you wouldn't turn Harry over to him."

"I almost did." Severus wrapped his arms tightly around her. "I was sure I'd never see you again." He looked up and started when he saw Dumbledore standing over them. Veronica leapt from the bed, red-faced. 

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but I really do need to speak with you," Dumbledore said to Veronica. "I knew you wouldn't leave the hospital wing until Severus was awake." When Veronica started to protest, he added, "Poppy will watch over him while you're gone. Please, it's important that we talk."

Veronica shifted from foot to foot, obviously not anxious to comply with Dumbledore's request.

"Before you leave, Albus," Severus said, "I'd like to speak to you for just a moment. Veronica, would you excuse us?"

"Why don't you wait in my office," Dumbledore suggested. "I'll be there directly."

She nodded and left the two men alone. 

"You knew what Potter and I were up to, didn't you?" Severus said.

"More or less," Dumbledore replied. "I knew you wouldn't kidnap Harry--"

Severus regarded him with surprise. "You knew about that?"

"Of course, I knew. What else could Voldemort have wanted from you in exchange for Veronica? But I knew you wouldn't do it." Dumbledore broke out in an affectionate smile. "I trust you, Severus. Obviously, more than you trust yourself. I also knew Harry would volunteer to help you rescue her once he'd figured it out."

"And you let us go?"

"How could I not? I owed her at least that much. Besides, it was an excellent opportunity for you and Harry to learn to work together. I suspect it won't be the last time."

"Please, Albus," Severus said, indicating the scar on his chest, "I feel bad enough as it is."

Dumbledore examined the medal pinned to his nightshirt. "I heard Euphemia was here to present you with the Order of Merlin, First Class. You must be very proud."

"Actually, I'm relieved I was asleep during the presentation. I cannot abide that woman." Severus removed the medal and put it back in the box sitting on his bedside table. "This should be Veronica's. It was her love that save me. All I did was stand there."

"You know Severus, you've suddenly turned into a compassionate and unselfish human being. Frankly, you're beginning to frighten me a little." Dumbledore grinned. "Veronica is so very proud of you--as am I. You've earned it."

"I want the two of you to be friends," Severus said as Dumbledore turned to leave.

"So do I," the old wizard replied.

*

Just as Veronica reached the gargoyle that guarded the entrance to Dumbledore's office, she heard someone call, "Professor Stanley!"

She turned and smiled as she saw Harry, Ron and Hermione rush toward her.

"How are you feeling?" they all three asked at once.

She wriggled her right forefinger almost painlessly. "Fine, thank you. How are you, Harry? Recovered from our little adventure?"

He nodded a bit shyly, communicating with his eyes and flushed cheeks that he didn't want her to make a fuss about what happened in front of his friends. 

"You know, we would have been there too, if Professor Dumbledore hadn't stopped us," Ron piped in. "He kept us in his office for _hours."_

"Dumbledore stopped you?" Veronica asked, a bit bewildered.

"Yes," Hermione answered, then glowered at Ron. "And you were so broken up about it that you only managed to choke down three mugs of butterbeer and five pumpkin cakes."

Ron opened his mouth for a retort, but Veronica interrupted him, "You know, I've been thinking about setting up a weekly workshop for the three of you to learn some more advanced Defense Spells, particularly the Patronus Charm. I have a few connections in the Dark Force Defense League and I may be able to arrange getting a dementor here so you can practice."

All three of them went pale. "A real dementor?" Harry breathed.

"There's nothing like practicing on the real thing."

"Normally, I wouldn't allow a dementor on school grounds, but Professor Stanley has a point."

Veronica jumped at the sound of Dumbledore's voice. "I'm sorry, sir, I spoke out of turn."

"No, it's an excellent suggestion," the Headmaster replied, then he turned to the three fifth-year Gryffindors. "Now, Professor Stanley and I have some business to attend to and I believe the three of you are already late for Herbology."

Harry, Ron and Hermione said their goodbyes and hurried to class. Dumbledore gave the gargoyle the password and led Veronica up the stairs to his office.

She settled in a comfortable chair in front of his desk, but felt anything but comfortable.

"Would you like some tea, Veronica?"

"No, thank you, sir," she replied formally. 

The old wizard grinned mischievously. "How about some Firewhiskey instead?"

Veronica couldn't help grinning herself. "It's not even noon."

Dumbledore broke out a bottle and two glasses. "Well, just this once."

Veronica downed her drink in one gulp, rather enjoying the giddy warmth that flooded through her body. "Ron Weasley said something very interesting just a moment ago."

"Really?" Dumbledore said as he sipped his own drink. 

Veronica tried to read the Headmaster's expression, but he was as inscrutable as ever. "He said that he and Hermione had planned on joining Harry on his adventure, but you stopped them. Which makes me think that you knew that Severus and Harry were going to try to rescue me."

Dumbledore nodded. "I couldn't officially give my permission, but I let them go."

"I must admit, I'm rather surprised that you allowed Harry to risk himself--" Veronica felt her throat tighten and tears well up in her eyes. "After all, he's the important one." She cursed herself for downing the Firewhiskey so quickly because now she was unable to keep the tears at bay. She covered her face with her hands and sobbed, letting all the pent up fear, anger and sadness that had built up over the last week come out at once. After several minutes, she felt Dumbledore help her out of her chair and onto the cushy sofa. He sat next to her and put his arms around her, stroking her hair comfortingly. She allowed herself to rest her head on his shoulder, her tears dripping onto his long white beard.

When her crying subsided, Dumbledore took her hand in his. Veronica felt a familiar jolt of energy spread up her arm, but why it was familiar, she couldn't rightly say. Her eyes grew wide with recognition when she finally recalled when she first felt it. "I remember this. After I tried to commit suicide, I felt this surge of strength every day, that made me hang on. I thought it was me..."

"And that's what I wanted you to think," Dumbledore said gently, "but now I realize it's much more important for you to know that you weren't alone, and that I did care about what was happening to you. I'm so sorry for the unbearable pain he caused you, but I'm quite delighted to see how wonderfully you've turned out."

"Thank you for telling me, Albus," Veronica said, wiping her eyes. "To be honest, I was getting rather tired of hating you." Veronica thought she saw a tear glistening in the Headmaster's eye. "I think I could do with that tea now."

"So could I," Dumbledore said, rising to his feet. "Oh, yes, something tells me this is this perfect moment for me to ask you if you plan on staying on as Defense Against the Dark Arts professor."

Veronica smiled broadly. "Only if I get hazard pay."

*

When Severus was released from the hospital wing early the next evening, Veronica was not there meet him. She was in the dungeon, "preparing things".

Though she had not specifically said it, Severus knew she was readying herself to make love with him for the first time. He would have felt more comfortable if he could have been the one to initiate intimacy, but he realized that he needed to let Veronica do this in her own way, though it did make him feel a little like a sacrificial virgin getting ready to be thrown into a volcano. His mouth curled in a wicked grin. Somehow he didn't mind

Severus entered the dungeon and was assailed by the sweet, fresh perfume of flowers. His room had been straightened, but thankfully all his possessions seemed to be in their proper place. Several vases full of black roses and orchids were placed all around the room. An ancient bottle of red wine from Hogwarts' own cellar sat on a table along with one empty wineglass. The other glass was being held by Veronica, who was sitting on his bed, his bedspread strewn with black rose petals. She was trying very hard to strike a seductive pose, but was failing miserably in the most sweetly charming way. 

One corner of his mouth curled up. "Someone's been reading _Witch Weekly again."_

"You don't like it," she said, crestfallen.

"Oh, it's very nice--the black flowers are a particularly good touch--but it's not quite you."

Veronica put down her wineglass and folded her arms across her chest. "And what, pray tell, would be me?"

Severus thought for a moment. "Balloons. Lots of big, colorful balloons. You're a very balloony sort of person."

"_Balloony?" Veronica broke out in a twinkling, bubbly laugh. "I like that. Oh, you haven't noticed my surprise!" She stood before him expectantly. She was wearing a pink gauzy robe, tied below the bust with a deep square neckline. She had never looked prettier, but there was something else..._

"Oh, my..." Severus reached out and gently brushed his hand against the skin--the perfectly beautiful skin--above her heart. "It gone!"

"Do you know what this means?" Veronica said happily. "When Voldemort is destroyed yours will disappear too."

But Severus wasn't listening. He knelt down and kissed her where the ugly Dark Mark used to be. He heard Veronica's breath catch in her throat, and felt her fingers dig into his shoulders. He kissed her throat, her neck, then her lips, with an urgency he hadn't dared before. He swept her up in his arms and was just about to carry her to his bed when he stopped himself and put her down.

"Why did you stop?" Veronica said, flushed and frustrated.

Severus almost choked on his next words: "We don't have to make love tonight if you're not ready."

Veronica gaped at him in disbelief. "Severus, look at me! I'm ready!"

"I-I just don't want to rush you," he stammered. "If you'd prefer--"

She pushed him down on the bed and settled into his lap.

"We could just talk--"

Veronica placed light, sensual kisses on his lips and neck while she ran her fingers through his hair.

"Or we could go for a stroll around the lake--"

She ran her tongue behind his ear, then took his earlobe lightly in her teeth. She sat up and wriggled a bit, causing him to gasp, as she started to unbutton his robe. Severus noticed that her hands were shaking a little.

Severus took her hands in his. "Are you sure?"

Veronica laid down on the bed, pulling him down with her. "I'm sure."

*

Several hours later...

"I should have asked you this before..." Severus began, absentmindedly running his fingers through her hair.

"Don't worry," Veronica told him, "I took precautions."

"No, not that."

"What then?"

"Veronica," he began in an overly serious tone. 

"Severus," she said, mimicking him, then flashing him a smile.

"Will you marry me?"

Veronica sat up in shock. She giggled nervously. "I was that good, eh?"

Severus pulled her down gently and kissed her. "You were a veritable goddess."

She gazed up at him eagerly. "Want to have another go?"

"Not until you answer my question."

Veronica raised an eyebrow. "You mean to tell me our making love again is contingent on whether or not I consent to be your wife?"

"No, but the quality of my performance may very well be affected."

She cuffed him playfully on the chest and pouted. "Well, I suppose I could stand to look at you for another fifty or sixty years, but after that I'm off."

He slipped his hand underneath the sheet, then kissed her deeply. "I can live with that."

"Can we have a traditional wizard wedding?" Veronica asked hopefully.

"Anything you like as long as we don't invite the whole world," Severus replied. "I'd prefer a small, quiet affair--"

Veronica patted his cheek. "Of course, sweetheart."

_Sweetheart.__ Damn, I like the sound of that. "I was thinking we could go to the French Riviera--or better yet--Venice for the honeymoon."_

She nodded. "That's sounds nice, but what about Disneyworld?"

Severus scowled. "Isn't that a Muggle amusement park in America?"

"It's supposed to be brilliant!" Veronica said brightly. "I've always wanted to meet Mickey the Mouse." 

"Who is Mickey the Mouse?" Severus asked.

"Only the most beloved animal in Muggle history," Veronica told him, obviously stunned that he was unaware of that fact. "He lives at Disneyworld. Can we go?"

Severus rolled his eyes. "We'll see."

*

As they walked up the stairs to the Great Hall the next morning, Severus made Veronica promise not to tell anyone about their engagement for the time being. It wasn't that he didn't want people to know, it was just that he wanted to do his best to prevent the occasion from becoming a circus. Unfortunately, Veronica was positively glowing and looked as if she were about to bust with the news at any second.

During breakfast, Lupin looked over at them and smiled widely. 

"Can I help you with something?" Severus asked with mild sarcasm.

"Sorry, Severus, but I was just thinking, I've never seen you looking so--relaxed."

Veronica blushed a deep crimson and giggled like a little girl. She turned to Lupin and blurted, "We're getting married!"

Severus put his head in his hand.

The entire staff table exploded into congratulations. Minerva and Professor Sinistra hugged Veronica in turn. He heard Professor Sprout mutter, "Generations of Hufflepuffs just turned over in their graves, but as long as you're happy..." then she squeezed Veronica warmly.

Any irritation he felt melted away when he saw Dumbledore hug Veronica tightly and place a kiss on her forehead. Veronica hugged him back and pecked him on the cheek. The only two people he'd ever really loved were friends again.

Hagrid walked over to Severus as he dabbed a few tears from his eyes with a handkerchief large enough to cover most first years. The half-giant pulled Severus to his feet and hugged him so tightly Severus thought he might have broken a rib or two. 

"I jus' love weddins!" Hagrid sobbed.

"Well, you're all invited, of course," Veronica told him.

Severus sputtered and coughed when Hagrid finally let him go. He then waved his arms at Veronica to get her to stop before she had invited the whole school, but it was too late. 

"What's going on, Hagrid?" Ron Weasley yelled from the Gryffindor table.

Hagrid pointed madly at Severus and Veronica and yelled, "They're gettin' hitched!"

Like a wildfire, within seconds, the news traveled through the Great Hall. Everyone but the Slytherins started applauding. Severus sat back down wearily and Veronica joined him a moment later. She regarded him sheepishly. "I'm sorry."

One corner of his mouth curled in a sardonic grin. "No, you're not." Severus gazed out on the Great Hall pensively.

"What are you thinking?" Veronica asked, wringing her hands, a touch of anxiety in her voice.

"I was just trying to pinpoint the exact moment when I lost complete control over my life."

She looked downcast. "I'll understand if you want to change your mind about getting married. Perhaps this isn't the best time for a wedding, after all. I mean, Voldemort wants us both dead, the Slytherins don't trust you anymore. I've ruined your spying career. I've sort of ruined everything."

He took her hand and squeezed it gently. "Veronica, my life needed ruining. Besides, we can't cancel the wedding, you've already invited the whole school."  

She smiled with relief. "We'll go to Venice for the honeymoon."

"No, no, I'll take you to Disneyworld," Severus sighed in loving resignation. "I wouldn't want to deprive you of the privilege of meeting Mickey the Rodent."

"Mouse," Veronica corrected, "Mickey the Mouse."

~Finis~


End file.
